


The Mason-Dixon Line

by LudoScared



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Animal Death, Blood and Gore, Canon Compliant, Child Abuse, F/M, Light BDSM, Original Character(s), Parent/Child Incest, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recreational Drug Use, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:47:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 46,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22585855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LudoScared/pseuds/LudoScared
Summary: Morgan wasn't alone when he rescued Aaron and Daryl. Who are they and how will they get along with the new group?Takes place from Season 4 on
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Work in progress! Constructive criticism welcome, some chapters will be longer than others. I'll try to post once a week.

Chapter One

**five hunded days. one year four months one week six days since the world went to shit. i dont know why im still keeping track. shot a possum last night best meal we've had since the crow. gonna head south again today i think theres a prison ahead. may have to swing west to avoid trouble.**

She closed her notebook and tucked it back in her bag along with her flashlight. She was cozy and warm, making her reluctant to start the day. She ran her hands over her face, took a breath and opened the top of her bed. Early morning sunlight filtered through empty tree branches, but the sun hadn't yet appeared on the horizon. Her bed swayed slightly with her movements, but after all this time it was a comfort. They had realized early on that the two of them alone were most vunerable on the ground, so they had found that a parachute hammock hung high up in the branches of a tree was their safest bet. The first few weeks were nerve wracking for her, but she had quickly adjusted. She sat up and slid her legs out, found the branch underneath her, and steadied her swaying.

She sat there eating the last of her possum while the sun came up. The tranquility was misleading, almost making her believe that the world had returned to normal. She shook her head, sucked the grease off of her fingers and stood up, her feet gripping the branch through her wool socks. The late winter air was cold on her face, her breath like smoke. She could see frost on the few remaining leaves as she packed up her bed. Spring was approaching slowly, and she worried how much longer this winter would be. The last one was rough; they had been farther north, where game was scarce, but scavenging was still a viable option. This time she wasn't so sure. They had pretty much given up checking houses since they all seemed to be either raided or held the undead.

She could see in the tree next to her that TJ was up as well, but just barely. His hammock was swaying with his sluggish movements. She let out her short three burst whistle to get his attention. He grunted in reply and waved her off, but he soon appeared and started to pack up as well.

Cat took her hammock down and rolled it up, packing it back into it's carrying bag and tying it to her pack. She slung her bag onto her back, followed by her quiver and bow, laced up her boots and scaled the 30 feet to the ground. Her boots were brown combat style, and had seen their fair share of action but still had a lot of life left. Her dark brown cargo pants hung low on her wide hips, the sheath of a knife hung from her belt on the left. A long sleeve black shirt was tucked into her pants, making it hug her curves and accentuate her ample breasts, which she had pulled a large flannel shirt over. She had always been a bigger girl, ever since puberty, but she carried it well. Fingerless leather gloves kept her hands warm, while a hooded serape helped hide an unruly mop of curly red hair pulled back into a bun.

TJ jumped down next to her, still chewing his breakfast. At 5'10", his body was well muscled, his square shoulders underneath a sherpa lined bomber jacket layered with a white tshirt and a half buttoned workshirt. Dirt stained green Carhartt pants hung low on his hips, a wide belt with a knife sheath keeping them up. Worn hiking boots that were more hole than shoe tried to cover his feet.

"Gonna need to find ya somethin' better soon," she said, indicating his overworn shoes.

"Been lookin," he replied with a shrug.

"Need a trim, too," she teased, running her fingers through his shaggy brown hair.

"Get off," he growled back, smiling as he pushed her hand away. "Come on, let's get going." They stepped onto the road and turned right, heading south. Another day was begun.

They had been walking for the last eleven months, ever since they had lost the last group. They had made their way down from Pennsylvania, just southeast of Harrisburg, heading south. She had decided to head back to her first home, but when they had arrived in Dawsonville three weeks ago, there was nothing left.

_She found his old house first, or what was left of it. The end which housed the bedrooms was still barely intact, but the other end had not fared so well. It had been burned, then completely collapsed under the weight of the ivy plants that strangled what was left the structure. She decided to risk it and venture inside to see if anything was left. She clambered in the open end, pushing vines aside to squeeze through. The floor creaked and groaned underfoot, but held. His room was on the far end, and she pushed the door open, not sure what to expect._

_The room was a disaster, with the window broken the weather and wild animals had done their worst. What used to be matresses were now mounds of dirty shredded fluff, moldy fabric strewn across the floor, the smell of refuse old and new pervaded the room. There was a single five drawer dresser in one corner, but the contents had been dumped along with the drawers. The closet door was attached only by the upper hinge, making it hang awkwardly across the opening. She peered inside, but it had been cleaned out. She turned to leave when a small box about the size of a cereal box caught her eye. It had been tucked into the back corner of the upper shelf. She couldn't reach it, so she hung her weight on the edge of the shelf until the rotting wood let go. The box clattered to the floor, but the clasp held, preventing the contents from spilling out._

_She picked up the box and examined it. It was wooden, well made, with a delicate hand carved design in the lid. She brushed her hands over the top reverently. She tucked the box under her arm and made her way back out, carefully picking her way through the debris again. Once she was out, she sat down on a nearby step and opened the box, her fingers trembling. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw what was inside. But before she could examine it any further, TJ came out of a neighboring house. She hurriedly closed the box and tucked it in the bottom of her bag. At least now she had something to remind her of him._

_The next house she visited had also been reclaimed by mother nature, having been abandoned long before the apocalypse. There was nothing left to explore, only a single wall from the kitchen was still standing. She sat on the ground in front of the remnants of where she lived, and sobbed, her arms around her knees as TJ held her. She hadn't truly expected him to be there, but when she was faced with the reality of it she had broke down._

TJ tapped her arm, breaking her from her memories. _"So where we headed?"_ He asked silenty, using the sign language she had taught him so they could stay quiet on the road.

 _"Dunno. South I guess. See where the wind takes us."_ Food was getting harder to come by. She had hoped that with the milder southern weather, hunting would be easier as well, but it had been just as fruitless as it had been when they were farther north. So they kept moving, letting the wind take them.

**503\. prison is southeast maybe a mile. i can hear people there, a horse and at least one running vehicle possibly a motorcycle. its strange to hear these things it feels like an assault and a welcoming at the same time. Im torn, feel like we should check it out but i cant. still gonna push forward people cant be trusted anymore**

Her rumbling stomach broke her concentration. Except for a handful of underripe berries, they hadn't eaten since the possum TJ had caught. Food was priority one today, but she worried about their vicinity to the prison. There were people there, but she didn't know if they were friendly and she preferred to not find out. West, she decided, was their best bet for food before moving on. She passed her bag to TJ, then took off her bow. She pulled an arrow from her quiver and notched it. She moved slowly, following the game trails, sure footed and quiet over the pine carpeted floor of woods. TJ slunk behind her, keeping a wary eye out for danger so she could concentrate on the hunt. She had been hunting for a good hour, following the game trails, when a rabbit darted by, but instead of firing, she watched to see where it headed, hoping it would lead her back to a den with more rabbits. She moved silently, just as he had taught her, giving the rabbit just enough space so that she wouldn't spook it. TJ hung back, letting her work her magic.

She had taught herself how to shoot a longbow during her time at the first camp. They had found a library on one of their first runs, and she had discovered a number of books on the subject, from how to construct the bow, what type of wood and string to use, to how different size bows would react. She learned how to adjust her draw, since she was used to using a compound bow, and most importantly how to make arrows. It had taken awhile to become proficient, but now the bow was a part of her, an extension of her arm.

Her patience paid off 30 yards later when she came upon four rabbits in a small hollow. They were on the smaller side except for one, and she quickly decided that would be her first one. She crouched down behind a fallen tree and adjusted her quiver so that it hung at her hip instead of across her back. She drew back, let out a slow breath, and released. Within two seconds she had fired three more arrows. Three rabbits were down but the fourth had bolted back down it's hole, just a hair quicker than her. She shrugged and stood up, gathering the dead ones and headed off to retrieve the last arrow.

The weather had finally turned for the better and it was actually beautiful out. They found a small clearing and while TJ started a fire with his flint Cat sat down to dress her kill. She pulled an eight inch long bowie knife from the sheath on her hip, then skinned and gutted the rabbits before passing them over to TJ. He had found a thin branch to serve as a spit and set them over the fire to cook. While they roasted she cleaned the skins, scraping off any leftover fat and tissue, then stretched each of them over a set of hoops tied to her bag, they would make a perfect lining for boots. Once the rabbits were cooked, TJ pulled them off and passed her one, taking another for himself. They ate greedily, polishing off a whole rabbit each and splitting the last one, washing them down with the last of their water. She ate them too fast, licking her fingers, and she worried a bit that her stomach would revolt later, but she was willing to chance it, too hungry to care. For the first time in months they had full bellies. There was a small stream nearby that gave them the chance to refill the water bottles and boil it over the fire.

The sun was high by the time they were done, so they decided to make the most of the light and continue south. There was a small compass hanging on the strap of her bag, so she consulted it and they headed off. An hour passed before they came out of the woods onto a road. She looked in both directions but there were no markers in either direction that she could see. She looked at TJ, but he just shrugged his shoulders. He would follow her wherever she went. She decided on heading to the left, even though it lead eastwards, back in the direction of people. She didn't have a specific destination in mind, she just was trying to escape the painful memories that had been dredged up recently. They weren't on the road long, maybe an hour and a half, when they came upon another encampment, and this one gave her a bad vibe. She climbed a tree to get a better look, TJ joining her moments later.

 _"Should stay up here for now,"_ she told him, figuring it might be easier to pass undetected once night fell.

 _"Binoculars,"_ He said, holding out his hand. She pulled them out of her bag and passed them over for him to get a better look. He scanned over the camp, then looked at her. _"Not good."_ There were six vehicles that he could see, six or eight ancient RVs, all of them parked end to end forming a perimeter, but the thing that made his heart jump into his throat was the military tank. He passed her the binoculars and she followed his finger. It may have been just an oversized lawn ornament, but she had a sinking feeling that it wasn't. It was difficult to tell how many people were there since the RVs partially obstructed her view, but there was at least one child that she could see playing. As she watched, the child disappeared from view behind a line of laundry. She couldn't make out any words from this distance, but the scream that echoed off the trees was unmistakable. An undead. Her heart sank as the screams continued until a gunshot rang out. Once again all she could hear was the buzzing of voices.

She continued their watch from the tree, and it seemed like the camp was a little more wary after that. They would have to circle wide around to avoid being seen. They waited, the two of them plotting the route as best as they could from their perch. Darkness soon fell, and they descended from the branch. They followed her planned path as best they could, staying off the road, at one point passing a camp that appeared to have been raided, tents torn to shreds, clothes and debris scattered everywhere. Once they passed that, she found a big sturdy tree for them to hunker down in for the night. Climbing was more difficult at night, but this wasn't the first time they had done it. She located a thick branch jutting from the trunk and rigged up her hammock. TJ had found one a few feet below her and was set up and asleep within minutes. Soon she was cocooned and safe, but the memories made for a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**504 something is off the morning air feels heavy as if a great sadness has washed over it bad omen time to get out**

The night had been rough, as sleep proved elusive, but she was glad to be up and moving. A sense of forboding ever since they had passed the tank hung about her like a weight. Quickly and quietly she slipped out of bed and woke TJ. They bundled up their belongings as the sun rose and got a move on. The longer she lingered the worse that odd sense of wrongness grew, a knot in the pit of her stomach. She was determined to put as much distance as she could between them and that tank. They moved at a quick pace, moving quietly through the dense underbrush. TJ was right on her tail, he could sense it too and wanted far away. The game trails were easy to follow, and every so often she would see an old boot print or oddly broken branch, telling her she wasn't the only one in the area who knew how to track. She regained the road after almost two hours, but kept to the treeline in case someone should come along. They hadn't gotten as far as she wanted, avoiding the tank had meant heading back east towards the prison. They came across a sign warning that hitchhikers could be escaped convicts, so they kept moving without eating, her stomach rumbling in protest, pushing down a wave of nausea. They moved in silence, not even signing to each other. Both were too unnerved for small talk. The earth was quiet, as if holding it's breath. Even the birds seemed to know that something was amiss. 

The sun was well past it's zenith, maybe an hour or so of daylight left, and she was contemplating stopping for the night when it happened. She had started to question whether she was imagining things when she has woken that morning. The sound of a gunshot, the likes of which she had never heard before. Almost more like a cannon being fired. Then came the explosion, the sound rolling off the nearby hills. Immediately she knew that the tank she had seen was definitely not just for show. They moved into the trees and waited to see what the noise would draw. The silence extended, drawing out the minutes, and still they crouched unmoving. She had just started to stand back up when suddenly the hills were echoing with the pops and bangs of gunfire, the familiar sounds of a firefight beating against her ears. She decided then and there that it was the perfect time to stop and get to higher ground. _"Time to go up,"_ she told him, and he nodded in agreement.

She scanned the nearby trees looking for what she needed when another explosion boomed, and she ducked instinctively. She located a tree about 20 feet from the road and bolted for it, but before she could start her ascent an undead appeared from behind it and reached for her, snarling through a mouth that had been dislocated. It appeared to be male although the advanced state of decay made it hard to distinguish. The few clothes it had left were tattered rags, the flesh on it's scalp had torn away and hung down the left side of it's face. The stench of it made her eyes water, and she felt the bile rising in the back of her throat. She shoved it to the ground, pulled out her knife and buried it to the hilt in it's skull. With a wrench of her wrist the knife came free and she wiped the gore off the blade with one of the undead's fabric rags as TJ caught up with her. Now she needed to locate a new tree and get up. There was no way she was sleeping with that stinking pile of rotten flesh underneath her. A third then fourth boom sounded by the time TJ found a suitable tree about five yards farther in. As they scaled up the tree, three more went off and the sounds of gunfire had almost ceased. She sat down on a branch, catching her breath and allowing her heart to slow. TJ slung his arm over her shoulder, pulling her in close to help her calm down. After about 15 min, she had stopped shaking enough to prep her bed, so she climbed in, hugging herself against the nightmares she knew would plague her.

_She had been there since the beginning, had help form it, and now she was watching it die. She saw the fire grow, stopping her from reaching six year old Neesha and her mom Ciara. Jackson gunned down before her eyes. Their simple barb wire fence had not been enough. It only worked on the undead. The living were much more cunning and amoral. She was running, desperate to get away, to find TJ, hoping he hadn't returned early from his hunt, but as she rounded the corner of one of the RVs, a strong hand snatched her upper arm, stopping her instantly as her forward momentum flung her to the ground. She looked up, and her eyes focused on a filthy face leering at her. The sound of gunfire was all around her, but she knew their camp was outgunned and outnumbered. The man straddled her, leaning close to lick her face, his hard dick pressing into her belly. He smelled of sweat and filth, his large, hairy body caked in days worth of dirt and blood. She squirmed under him trying to escape, her stomach churning as she realized what he was going to do. He tucked her hands under his knees, crushing them under his weight to keep her from fighting back._

_"Oh no, sweet thing, you're all mine. I'm gonna fuck your brains out, then I'm gonna blow your brains out and fuck you again." He grabbed her tit, squeezing it in his hand as he undid his pants with the other. She bucked against him, but he was too big for her to throw off. He laughed at her efforts as his cock came free, and he pumped it a few times, making her gag with revulsion. With a jerk he got up just enough to flip her on her stomach, then pinned her wrists back under his knees again. His weight crushed them, grinding the bones together, then yanked her pants and panties down. He kept pulling until they were around her calves, then shoved her knees under her, her face pressed to the earth. Then he was in her, tearing her, the pain blinding her. She refused to cry, she wouldn't give him that satisfaction, even as he rammed into her repeatedly, the rocks under her face shredding her cheek. She concentrated on the blade of grass in front of her, studying the veins that crossed it's surface. Before long he was shuddering from an orgasm, then he was gone, leaving her bare ass in the air. She rolled to the side and curled up, anger welling inside her. She felt the muzzle pressed to her temple and his face flashed through her mind. 'If I die now at least my last thought is of him.' She smiled then, and that smile spared her life._

Cat woke with a start, sweat beaded on her brow and her breath caught in her throat. She could still feel the cold metal on her skin. She despised these nights. She took a couple shaky breaths, trying to clear the images from behind her eyes. Reliving what had happened, what she had been forced to see and do, always left her feeling drained, the taste of copper in her mouth no longer real but still there. It was still dark out, only the sound of the wind gently gusting in the trees. She would never see him again. The sudden realization hit her like a high five to the face with a brick. She stuffed a piece of her shirt in her mouth to stifle the sobs as tears rolled down her face. The thought of dying lurked in the dark recesses of her mind, but she still had TJ. Her will to live was there to spite her father after all he had done to her. To prove to herself that she was better than him because at least she wasn't dead. Slowly her sobs faded, the tears dried, and she was feeling more like her usual self. It was a new day, the first slivers of light had appeared on the horizon, birds singing in the branches, so she pulled out her notebook and penlight and made her daily entry.

**505 shit hit the fan hard. i heard the tank go off at least 7 times huge firefight. wonder if it was at that prison. would make sense but why? if youre trying to take it how would you live somewhere you just blew holes in? stupid**

Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten at all the day before. She tucked her notebook away and contemplated just staying there for the day, snuggled in her bed shut away from the world, but the call of nature quickly vetoed that idea. 

When she poked her head out, TJ was standing on the branch, a look of concern on his face. He had heard her earlier, and was packed up and waiting for her. He held a hand out to her and she took it gratefully. He helped her up to standing, then pulled her into an embrace as he leaned against the trunk of the tree, his arms folding around her 5'4" frame. She breathed in his scent, her head on his shoulder, still amazed that he was in her life. She took a couple deep breaths and let them out, feeling more like herself again.

She let go of TJ and gave him a small smile, nodding to let him know that she was feeling better. As she packed up, the sun was just starting to peek over the hills. They climbed down and TJ headed towards the road while she leaned against the tree and did her business, then made her way back to the road to join him.

As she walked, her mind wandered unbidden back to her old camp. It had been haphazard at the start, just the five of them trying to survive. The rest had trickled in, growing from the five to almost 40 people in just four months. 

Cat and TJ had come across the first ones about a month after everything had started. There were three of them stopped on the side of the road to eat when she and TJ had come upon them. The man had seen her first and immediately grabbed for his rifle. She put her hands up.

_"We've got nothin worth stealin here."_

_"Us either," she replied. "Just passing through." The woman pulled a little girl behind her, obviously unnerved by their appearance. Cat glanced at their meal and noticed how meager it was. A single can of baked beans between the three of them. She glanced at TJ and he nodded in ascent. "If you'd let us join ya for a spell, we've got some food we can share. Y'all are looking a little low." She motioned towards the can. "I'm gonna take my pack off. Don't shoot me."_

_He nodded and lowered the barrel of the rifle, but kept it at his shoulder in case she was bluffing. She knelt down and rifled through her pack, and pulled out a can of spaghettios, a can of peas and a half eaten bag of jerky. She held them out for him. "It's all I've got but ya look like you could use it more than us."_

_The man relaxed and set the rifle down and waved his hand for them to join. He looked to be about 50, about 5'7" but scrawny, with deep olive skin and dark wavy hair. There was a slight accent to his voice, but it was too subtle for her to place._

_"Thanks," the woman said, taking the food. She was tall and skinny like him, but with beautiful ebony skin and dark curly hair cut short, framing her face like a halo. The little girl looked to be five or six, and was the spitting image of the woman, with longer hair pulled back into a ponytail. "Come sit." Cat nodded and joined them, sitting on the ground with her legs crossed, using her bag to lean against. TJ sat next to her on the ground. "My name's Ciara, and this is Neesha," she said, indicating the girl hiding behind her. "That's Jackson." He bobbed his head as he opened the cans she had given him._

_"I'm Cat, this is TJ. Ya look like you've been on the road awhile. Where ya headed?"_

_"We were trying to get to Harrisburg, but the couple we came across last week told us it's been overrun," Jackson said, passing the spaghettios to Ciara. She spooned some onto each of the three plates, when it dawned on her that she didn't have one for Cat or TJ._

_"I'm sorry, I don't have anymore plates," she said, looking as if she might burst into tears._

_"S'ok, just hand me the can," Cat replied, pulling a small piece of metal from her pocket. She unfolded it to reveal a small spork. The little girl had been watching quietly, peeking around her mother's shoulder, a small cloth doll clutched in her hands, but when she saw Cat seemingly make a utensil appear out of thin air, she squealed with delight._

_"Momma, she did magic!"_

"CAT!" Her reverie was broken suddenly by TJ, and she spun around to realize a small horde of undead had come upon them from behind. She pulled her knife and went on the offensive, holding two off with her bow while she took out a third with her blade. She had her back to TJ as they fought to escape the horde, but more kept coming and they were quickly overwhelmed, but she kept fighting. Without warning the head of the undead closest to her went slack as a knife tip appeared between it's eyes. Another crumpled as a stick smashed it's skull. She realized that someone had come to their aide.

With a renewed purpose she fought her way out, and the three of them dispatched over two dozen undead. They stood there catching their breath and she nodded at him. He was slightly taller than her, with chocolate skin, a short dark beard, and close cropped hair. He wore dark green pants tucked into his black boots, and a dark grey shirt under his tan coat. He was wearing a hiker's pack on his back similar to her own.

"Thank you," she said, panting, hands on her knees.

"You're welcome. How did they manage to get so close?" He asked as he pulled out a rag and started to wipe the blood off the end of his staff.

"We both had a rough night. Not alot of sleep, guess we're off our game," TJ replied.

"Morgan Jones," he said, holding out his hand. "You're not headed to Atlanta are you?"

"TJ. Nah, just south I guess. Really just kinda meandering at this point."

Morgan turned to her and held out his hand. "Cat Mason," she said taking his hand. She looked around and noticed that they had been coming up on a crossroads and figured that he had appeared from there. "What about you? Where ya goin?"

"Lookin for someone. Last I heard he was just north of here. Not sure if I'll ever find him or if he's still alive, but it gives me purpose." He shrugged his shoulders as if to say 'What else you gonna do?'

"I wouldn't go that way. Ya may not have heard all the commotion that went on yesterday. It's kinda what set me off balance." She indicated the way she had come with a jerk of her thumb. "Ya got anything to eat? We can trade stories and decide what to do next."

The statement surprised herself, normally she would have just kept moving without a second thought for him. Even TJ gave her a sideways glance of surprise. She just shrugged in response. There was something about Morgan, his soft brown eyes reminded her of Jackson, and his face had an open honest quality tinged with sadness that made her want to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Sounds good," he said. "Let's find someplace a little less exposed first." They found a small raised clearing just a few minutes from the road that gave them visibility all around without being visible themselves, and sat down to a small meal he produced. It was simple fare, a can of peaches in heavy syrup, some very stale crackers and can of sardines, but to her it was like Thanksgiving. She chewed slowly, relishing the super sweet peaches especially. Morgan told them about Atlanta, how he had gone looking for his friend Rick after they had crossed paths for a second time, and Cat and TJ took turns telling him about the prison and camp they had passed and the shootout the next day.

Morgan nodded slowly, absorbing the information he had been given. Rick had been at a prison, but from what she had described, there probably wasn't a prison left. If Rick had survived, he would be on the move again. "So, what's your plan? Still just headed south?"

Cat sat for a minute without replying, just gazing into the fire. They had been north, but there was nothing really south of them either from what Morgan had said. She looked at TJ. She knew he would go wherever she said, but for once she didn't know what to do. "What d'ya think? I'm honestly in no shape to make a decision..." she trailed off, dropping her head into her hands.

TJ went over and sat next to her, putting his arm around her and kissing her hair. She leaned in and put her head on his shoulder. He looked at Morgan, then nodded to himself as he made his decision. "If you wouldn't mind the company, I think we might travel with you a ways. See if a new direection helps."

"I'd like that," he replied, a grin lighting his face. "Sounds like north may not be a viable option. Any ideas?"

TJ thought for a moment, and was about to say no when he remembered something. "Before we passed the prison, we crossed a set of train tracks with a sign. A place called Terminus, said it was a sanctuary. Maybe your friend headed there."

"Sounds like a plan. How do we get there?"

"There was a map posted with the sign. It looked like all these different tracks converge at a terminal there so all we need to do is find some tracks and start walking."

Morgan nodded in agreement and stood up. "Let's go then."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

**505 gained a companion yesterday. morgan, we're headed to terminus see if his friend rick is there not sure whats gonna happen if he finds him. we'll see**

When they had stopped that first night she was surprised to learn that he slept on the ground. But when she saw his simple set-up she had to laugh. Just a ring of dead leaves and twigs that would crunch underfoot when stepped on.

"Aren't you worried about the living? They would just step over it," Cat asked him.

He shook his head and replied, "They haven't bothered me yet. Once I'm in the sleeping bag it blends in pretty well. In the dark it just looks like forest floor. I'm also a naturally light sleeper. Haven't had any trouble yet."

"Well, I give ya credit. Until we figured out the hammocks I never slept well. Besides being worried it was always too uncomfortable. I'd usually end up finding a rock in my back," she added with a laugh _._

When she and TJ climbed down the next morning, Morgan was already awake, his staff spinning in intricate patterns around his body, his movements fluid and precise, as if he was dancing. She sat down against the tree watching him, mesmerized. He handled his staff like she handled a bow, as if it was a part of him.

"What was that?" TJ asked him once Morgan had finished and sat down. Cat understood how he had rescued them.

"Aikido. A friend was teaching me." Morgan looked away, but not before she saw the sadness in his eyes. TJ nodded his head and didn't press. He could tell Morgan wasn't ready to discuss it just yet. They ate a quick meal in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Think you could teach me?" TJ queried as they packed up to leave.

Cat laughed at that, a true genuine laugh.

"What? I like to learn," TJ retorted.

"Ya act like ya have no idea how to fight," she shot back. When Morgan gave her a quizzical look, she explained, "He used to box, dabbled in a couple different martial arts."

"Yeah, but that's up close stuff, great for the living, not so much for the undead. Learning to use a staff could be quite useful," TJ countered.

"He's got a point, can't really fistfight walkers," Morgan said with a laugh. "Alright, but I won't let you sleep in anymore," he joked.

They found a set of tracks two days later. Spending time with Morgan made her realize how much she missed being in a group. TJ was her everything, but she could tell that they were both better when there were others around. It kept them from being in their own heads too much. Morgan was easy to get along with, serious but a quick wit. She found herself opening up to him, so she was surprised when they came upon the tracks and a sense of unease settled on her. They ran northeast to southwest, but a sign posted at the crossing let them know which way to go. She felt dread wash over her as she realized that Terminus was going to happen. She suddenly wasn't ready to face a group, still getting used to the idea of Morgan. He saw the look of unease on her face as she stared down the tracks.

"It's late enough to stop for the night. We'll start fresh in the morning," Morgan said, easing her fears a bit. He guessed what she was struggling with and was giving her time to adjust.

"Sounds good." There was still a bit of sun peeking over the horizon, so she decided to make use of it. There was a servicable tree only ten feet in, so she set her pack at the base and grabbed her quiver and bow. "I'm gonna try and catch something fresh. TJ, you wanna set a couple snares, see if we get something for breakfast?"

"Sure, I guess I could use the practice," TJ replied with a sigh. He looked at Morgan and confessed, "I'm terrible at it on purpose. Makes her feel useful."

"I heard that," she called over her shoulder as she headed off into the trees. Twenty minutes later she reemerged carrying a plump groundhog. Morgan already had a small fire going, so she sharpened a spit, then she skinned and gutted the rodent. She placed it over the fire to cook, while Morgan emptied a can of beans into a small pot to warm. TJ arrived after setting his snares, and after noticing Cat's expression, walked over and sat down next to her.

"Lemme see that skin before you destroy it," he chuckled. She looked down to see that she had torn the edge of the fur she was scraping.

"Shit! Sorry," she said, passing it over to him. She got up and gave the meat a turn, then crouched down by the fire, poking lazily at the coals. She became lost in thought staring at the fire, thoughts of Neesha flashing through her head. Laughing as Cat chased her through the camp, braiding Cat's hair, intertwining it with her own, Ciara singing her to sleep at night by the fire.

"It's getting quite well done there," Morgan observed, breaking her reverie.

"Ah, dammit." She quickly turned the groundhog over, shaking her head at herself. One side had been blackened by the flames, the smell of burnt meat filling the air. She kept her wits about her until everything was cooked. Most of the groundhog was salvagable, so they all ate their fill, Morgan passing on the meat, and set the rest aside to supplement their dwindling stock.

"Thank you," she said, "for this. For stopping early. Guess I need some time to adjust."

"You'll get there. Everything will work out like it should."

On the fifth morning, as Cat and TJ were eating a breakfast of squirrels TJ had caught, Morgan asked, "So what are you writing every morning?"

"Just my way of keeping track of the passage of time. I don't have dates, by the time I started over a month had already gone by. So I just started writing how many days had passed and a quick blurb about what had happened. It's helped me keep sane. TJ teases me about it sometimes, but it lets me at least get close to his birthday."

TJ rolled his eyes. "Yeah, cause that's what I'm worried about these days."

"That's what Mamas do," Morgan said with a laugh.

Cat and TJ both looked at him, stunned. "How did you know? Most people just assume we're together. We don't abuse them of the notion cause it's safer for her," TJ explained.

"It's obvious for anyone truly paying attention. My wife was the same way with our son." Morgan shook his head at the memory, as if to brush it aside. "So how many days have passed?"

"By my calculations at least 510 days have passed since the dead started to rise. It seems like much longer sometimes."

"Not even two years? It does seem much longer."

They had passed two more of the signs that offered sanctuary over the past few days, they seemed to be posted wherever a road crossed the tracks, but it was difficult to gauge how long it would be before they reached Terminus. She was at war with herself. She felt comfortable with Morgan, but the thought of even entering another camp, whether or not she was staying, filled her with dread. Morgan had picked up on it, and tried to draw her out of her thoughts.

"So what about before? Where did you live? I can hear the south in your voice but it's muted."

A sad smile crossed her face. "I was actually born in Rockmart, Georgia, grew up in Dawsonville. Had him in Indiana, then I moved to Parish, New York. Lived there for a couple years, then we bounced around until Mama P and Steven took us in. We lived just outside of Philadelphia with them. This is only the second time I've been back here since I moved away." She fell quiet, doodling in the dirt with her knife. "Didn't think I'd ever be back."

"Did you have family here?"

"No family. I did have a friend though. I wish I had come back sooner, before all this." She waved her hand in the air. "I never got to say goodbye. Guess it's too late now. I actually went back. Not sure what I thought I'd find, cause there was nothing left. After that is when we just started south. Figured eventually get to the coast, find a boat and keep on goin." She shrugged her shoulders. "You're derailin my plans, Morgan," she said with a laugh. "Thanks."

He laughed at that. "Well allow me to continue derailing them. Let's get a move on. We're running late."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, but started packing up. Her steps were a little lighter now, she had forgotten what having someone new to talk to felt like. Maybe she would consider staying at Terminus for a bit. They could always leave later.

They walked in companionable silence, each understanding the need for stealth. They would swap stories whenever they stopped, Morgan telling her about Duane, and they told him tales about their first camp. In the morning TJ and Morgan would spar, and he began to teach him the varied ways a staff could be used. He was sore after every session, Morgan barely withholding his blows.

"I'm not sure if you're the worst teacher ever, or the best," TJ remarked, rubbing the shoulder Morgan had just whacked when he was unable to deflect the attack.

"You won't learn as quickly if I go easy on you." He swung at him again, but he caught the staff before it hit him, parrying the blows Morgan rained upon him. TJ was a quick study, and pretty soon he knew he would be able to hold his own against Morgan. While they would spar, Cat would work out, using trees as her equipment, doing pull ups and upside down sit ups in the branches. She had begun them after their first camp had fallen, determined to be strong enough to defend herself and not need to rely on TJ all the time.

**526 close to terminus should reach it before dark hope its still there been a long time since i had something to look forward to**

They were all anxious that morning. They had heard what sounded like an explosion over a week ago, but it had seemed to come from all around and far away, as the sound echoed off the hills. Their progress had been slow since the explosion, having drawn the undead from miles around, forcing them to hide or defend themselves more often than walk.

"Are you sure we should continue?" she asked as they packed.

"I learned the hard way that all life is precious. If there's people then we should help. It's why I stopped for you," he stated softly.

She nodded her assent. "Okay then. Off we go." The morning was cold, so they covered their faces, Morgan donning a full face mask while she pulled her wrap up over her mouth and nose. She was quite intimidating looking, the wrap had a half skull design on it, dark ski goggles covered her eyes, and her dark grey hood was pulled tight over her hair, while TJ wore a balaclava. They walked continuously, not even stopping to eat as they normally would. She was almost feeling excited.

Dusk was approaching, and she had started looking for a place they could rest for the night. They had made less progress than she expected after they had come across another small herd shuffling across the tracks. The undead had been just beyond a bend in the tracks and Morgan, TJ and Cat had let their guard drop, so they hadn't had a chance to find cover before they were spotted. TJ stood to the left of Morgan since TJ was left handed, allowing them both greater range of motion, while Cat covered the rear. This wasn't the first they had run into since they had met, and TJ was grateful for the sparring sessions. It not only kept them proficient but allowed them to work as a team, so that none of them became overwhelmed. There were 14 of the undead in all, but were spaced far enough apart that after the first wave of five, they only had to face one or two at a time.

After that encounter they had been more vigilant, pausing more often when a suspicious noise arose. She had fallen a few paces behind them, contemplating a tree she had spotted off to the right when Morgan saw the sign. It was another of the Terminus signs, but someone had altered it. With a handful of mud they had scratched out all but the word sanctuary and scrawled "NO" above it. He turned to her and pulled off his mask.

"I guess we know what that explosion was," he said with sadness in his voice. She came up and surveyed the sign as she pulled her wrap down around her neck. She stood there, hands on hips, her head hung to hide the tears that welled in her eyes. She hadn't realized how much she was looking forward to it until that moment. Morgan looked around, studying the area, and spotted an X mark inside of a circle that had been carved into a tree. Farther into the woods another tree had been carved with the same mark. He walked over to the nearest one and ran his hands over it. The marking was recent, sap still tacky after seeping from the wound. She blinked away the tears and looked at him. "Let's see where this leads," he suggested, and she and TJ nodded her agreement.

They followed the markings until dark and made camp for the night. Usually Cat and TJ slept in their perch and Morgan slept on the ground, but they had stopped too late for him to set up a perimeter. So that night she rigged up an extra hammock for Morgan, one on either side of the trunk. He shook his head at her contraption but climbed in anyway.

"How on earth do you get comfortable in this thing?" he asked her incredulously. "Now I know what a fish in a net feels like."

"Get your body on the upper half with your butt in the middle. It can take a couple tries." She grinned as he grunted and groaned his way around. Suddenly he quit moving and gave a deep sigh.

"Ok, now I see why you still sleep up here. Feels like a mini vacation. All I need now is a piña colada," he quipped.

"Are we gonna have to start finding you a tree now?" TJ replied with a laugh.

"Definitely putting this on my Christmas list," he shot back. "Goodnight Cat. Goddnight TJ."

"Goodnight Morgan," they both called out.

**530 so glad to get out of this tree been up here since yesterday now truly out of food except for a snack cake which morgan says was his friends i dont think he can bear to part with it**

The next four days were slow going. The markings were easy to follow but the undead seemed to be everywhere. At first it had just been one or two, but the farther they went the bigger the groups got. And the forest was thick, making it harder to spot them ahead of time. The third day after leaving the railroad tracks they never left the tree they were in. It wasn't quite a herd, just a seemingly constant stream of undead. So they took the forced respite to patch up clothes, sharpen dulling blades and polish off the last bits of food. They had been able to hunt and scavenge enough food over the past week to supplement what they had on them, but with three adults the food didn't stretch as far.

On the fourth day they were able to climb down and continue their trek. The groupings of undead had dwindled in the night, and they only came across two pairs of them before the signs in the tree led to an elementary school. There were undead inside, at almost every window, but the part that was most disturbing to Cat was outside the walls. There were remnants of a fire with a chicken wire cooking grate on top. Laying on the grate was the remnants of a human leg from the knee down. The foot was untouched by the fire, and Cat hoped that the person who had owned it wasn't alive when it was removed.

She turned away, her stomach roiling at the sight. She couldn't understand how people had turned to cannibalism. As she stood there contemplating how the world had gotten to that point, Morgan noticed an undead laying on the ground. It was still moving, but seemed to be incapacitated. With a quiet shushing sound, he slid his blade into it's temple, ending it's misery.

They moved on, following more markings on the trees. They soon came upon a church, a small white clapboard building so common in the south. The sign by the road said it was 'St. Sarah's Episcopalian Church'. Morgan and TJ headed inside, while she explored the exterior. The bottoms of the windows had been boarded up, and there were organ pipes sticking out of the ground around the porch steps. Near one corner someone had carved 'YOULL BURN FOR THIS' into the wooden siding. She made a full curcuit around the building, finding nothing else of interest, then sat on the steps and waited for Morgan and TJ to return. The outside was creepy enough, she wasn't setting foot inside. TJ came out first and explained that Morgan had asked for a few minutes alone.

Almost 10 minutes had passed and she was contemplating going in to find Morgan when he came out smiling. "I know where he's headed," he proclaimed, holding up a poorly folded map. "Looks like he met up with a group bound for D.C."

She sat for a moment, chewing over the news. D.C. was in the direction from where they had come so long ago. But Morgan had been good for her, and she wasn't quite ready to give up her newfound companionship.

She looked at TJ, and he nodded at her. "Then I guess we're goin to D.C."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to celebrate the second half of season 10! Yay! Already watched it 5 times haha

Chapter 4

**563 i think were getting close now. not sure what road we're on so we've been going slower until we figure it out. morgan took down two guys with a W carved on their forehead while tj and i were hunting yesterday but wouldn't kill em. He left em knocked out in a car surrounded by undead not sure how smart that was**

They had been on the road a month, but making good time. They had come across a few undead, but nothing like the herds they had seen in Georgia. When they came across houses they would scavenge but not much was left. Once she had found a full two ounces of weed stashed in some kids bedroom along with rolling papers and a small glass bowl. That night she packed the bowl and lit up. Morgan declined when she offered, but TJ joined her for a couple hits just before they went to sleep. It was the first time she had been high since before the world had ended, and it didn't take much to make her head swim. She had only used it once after that, deciding that she would only do it occasionally, when shit got really bad for her. Who knew when or if she would ever come across any more. Besides, going around stoned all the time would just get her killed.

The day had started out cold, frost covering everything, but had soon warmed up enough that they could keep their faces uncovered. Spring had finally started arriving in the north. They still weren't sure of where they were since the road they were on seemed to be lacking any and all markings, even the speed limit signs were gone. The food had run out two days before, and hunting had become harder, animals seeming to be more scarce the farther north they went. Their shadows were getting long on the ground and she had started scanning ahead for a suitable place to stop for the night when they rounded a bend in the road and spotted a fenced-in warehouse for canned goods. The snarling and growling of almost 100 undead was almost deafening, and as they watched, two men emerged from between two of the trailers, as the herd of undead gathered around them. Cat watched as they sprinted to a sedan, slashing at the undead in their way and dove in, shutting the passenger door just as the herd reached it, trapping them inside. The three of them crouched low, taking stock of the situation.

"Looks like they could use a hand," Morgan said in a low voice. Cat and TJ nodded in agreement and peered through the weeds along the fence. Most of the herd had gathered around the car, but there seemed to be a bit more on the driver's side, which was fortunate since the passenger side was facing the them.

"Shouldn't be too difficult to clear a path to them. You two head for the car, I'll cover the rear, keep em from pilin on," she said as she pulled down her ski goggles and covered her mouth and nose with the wrap, then tugged her hood up to cover her hair. She had learned that it was easier to have them on when fighting because it kept the gore out of her face and her hair from being grabbed. "Let's go."

The three of them slipped through the gate and crept across the ground, moving quietly so as not to attract the attention of the undead until they were right on top of them. They got within 10 feet of the car before being noticed, but Morgan took the two that spotted them out with ease, Cat silently taking down two more as the approached from behind. They reached the car and Morgan smashed the head of the one in front of the passenger door handle with his staff, blood and brains spattering the window before it fell to the ground. Cat and TJ went to work, eliminating the closest undead, TJ with his staff and Cat with her knife. Morgan flung open the door and the younger man leapt out, machete in hand, followed almost instantly by the second man wielding a crossbow and a large bowie knife. Cat and TJ worked to clear a path so that the five of them could hightail it to the fence, eliminating the dozen or so undead who had managed to get in behind them. The rest of the herd turned for them, but they were still on the other side of the car and unable to catch up. Cat led the way back to the gate, the younger man on her heels, and the man with the crossbow taking down one that came after her with his knife just as she started to swing the gate closed, Morgan and TJ slipping through just before the younger man latched it closed. Crossbow fired just in front of Morgan, taking down the lone undead that had managed to sneak up from outside the fence.

"That was-oh-thank you," the young man gasped, leaning over to catch his breath. He looked to be in his mid to late twenties, with brown curly hair cut short in the back and a little fuller on top, and a handsome, cleanshaven face surrounding chocolate brown eyes. He had a dark hooded jacket on, over a plaid shirt, dark blue jeans and boots. Morgan nodded as he began to wipe the blood from his staff. Crossbow was watching them as he paced, unsure what to make of his rescuers. "I'm Aaron, this is Daryl," he continued, indicating his companion.

"Morgan, and this is TJ, Cat," he replied, pointing at them. She nodded her head, taking a step towards Daryl, who had started at her name. His black jeans were full of patched holes, a leather vest with wings on the back was over a dark flannel coat with leather sleeves, looking like some cobbled together outfit. This man was as tall as TJ, his hair darker and longer, and his body full of lean muscle as he moved, but the set of his jaw, the shape of his eyes, the line of his nose matched her memories. And those two moles on his left cheek, just above his lip, that she had wanted to kiss more times than she could count. The facial hair was new, the same blonde that his hair used to be, with a few grey hairs sprinkled in. It couldn't be, could it? She took another step, unable to believe it could be him.

"Why?" Daryl spat out, still watching her with unease, unsure of what to think about the woman wearing the skull wrap and mirrored goggles as she moved closer.

"Why? Because all life is precious, Daryl." Daryl looked at Morgan as if he thought the man made no sense and all the sense in the world, all at the same time.

"Who ever set that trap is coming. But I have good news. We do," Aaron corrected. "We have a community not too far from here. Walls, electricity, it's safe. If you'd like to come join us-"

"I thank you," Morgan said, cutting him off, "but we're on our way somewhere. Fact is, we're lost, so, if you could tell me where we are..." he trailed off, pulling out the map and handing it to Daryl. As he took the map and unfolded it, she kept staring at him in disbelief, her breathing becoming quick and shallow. There was no way this could be the same scrawny kid from all those years ago. His hair was hanging in his eyes, making them harder to see, but she knew as soon as he had spoken, that one word in that same voice. There was so much more depth and pain since she had heard it last, but there was no doubt. She felt rooted to the spot, her mind a whirlwind as Morgan and Daryl were discussing something about the map, Aaron and TJ listening in disbelief. Daryl flipped his hair from his face and speared her with his eyes. She didn't hear any of it, she was lost in the tumbling emotions that sucked the breath out of her like a punch to the gut. He was more beautiful than she remembered, time had matured and deepened the rugged handsomeness of his dirty face, and his body had definitely matured as well. But it was his eyes that stopped her heart. There was a pain there, an almost haunted look in those stormy blue eyes, and she knew that she had helped cause it. How would he react when he realized who she was? Her vision blurred, and the last thing she heard was Morgan saying "Do you hear that Cat?" before everything went black.

Her knees buckled, the side of her head bouncing hard off the asphalt as she hit the ground. "Cat!" TJ called, trying to catch her. He rolled her on her side, first pulling off her poncho and then her pack as Morgan ran over.

"She bit?" Daryl growled, glancing at Aaron. He had caught a glimpse of red hair as TJ pulled her poncho off. Doubt ran through him, surely nothing more than a coincidence.

She quickly came to, before TJ had a chance to remove anything else, propped against her bag. She put her hand to her head, feeling the wet, sticky blood, groaning at the searing pain in her skull.

"Cat, can you hear me?" Morgan said, the worry evident in his voice. She nodded and put out a hand. Morgan grabbed it and helped her up, a steadying hand on her arm. TJ stood behind her, ready in case she went down again.

Daryl strode up to her, pushing Morgan aside, their faces only inches apart as he stared down at her covered face, and growled, "Ya bit?" He had become anxious when she fainted, worried that they had just invited in someone who may turn out to be a problem.

She shook her head and pulled down the wrap to reply, a small smile on her face. "I'm fine, Dixie." He froze, the wind sucked from his lungs as she pulled the goggles up and off her head. Only one person had ever called him that, and he thought she was long dead. But there she stood, those ice blue eyes, that same constelation of freckles across her nose, and that red hair, now held back in a bun instead of the braid she had always sported. Her lips seemed fuller, with the full body of a goddess to match. Emotions rolled over him, warring with one another. Anger at her for leaving, amazement that she was standing in front of him, but what won out was the overwhelming joy that she was alive. She stood there, tense yet smiling that same captivating smile, watching the war within him, unsure of what he would do.

With a clatter his crossbow fell to the ground and he flung his arms around her, burying his face in her neck. She laughed and hugged him back, gloved fingers twining through his hair, tears streaming down her face as his shoulders hitched in a sob and he breathed a single word, "Kitten."

"It's me, Dixie. I'm here. It's gonna be ok," she whispered, her face pressed into his hair. She gave another small laugh, all the familiar smells, leather and woods and sweat, everything inherently Daryl, assaulted her nostrils. She felt as if her heart was going to burst. He lifted her off her feet, squeezing her tightly, a growl escaping him, unable to let go, the rest of the world forgotten.

"I hate to break this up but we should go," Aaron said hesitantly. Daryl nodded and took a stabilizing breath as he set her back down. He looked at her, chewing his lip, then broke away to pick up his forgotten crossbow. Aaron and Daryl led them to their vehicles, just a short distance through the trees, Aaron shooting unanswered glances at Daryl and Cat the entire time. Daryl gripped her hand tightly as they walked, terrified to let her go, as if she would vanish like a mirage. TJ watched them closely, unsure what to think about her reaction. There was no way he could be who TJ thought he was, the chances of running into him were astronomical. There was an older Caddy and a pieced together frankenstein of a motorcycle parked on a nearby road. Morgan and TJ headed to the passenger side of the Caddy, while Cat went to get in behind the Aaron.

"Nah," he said and squeezed her hand, pulling her over towards his bike. Without another word he climbed on and started it up, then stood it upright and waited for her to climb on.

"Hold on," she said, and ran back over to the car and handed TJ her bag through the back window, tugging her poncho back on. She put a hand on TJ's face and gave him a nod, answering the question she knew he wanted to ask and bolted back, a 1000 watt smile spread across her face, the pain in her head forgotten. She stepped on and swung her leg over, putting her hands on his shoulders for balance. As soon as she was seated, he handed her the crossbow and she slung it across her back. She pulled her wrap back up on her face, then she put her hands at his waist, he dropped it in gear and took off, the Caddy lumbering along behind them. She was almost numb the entire ride as the cold spring air whipped over her, and she leaned against him, her arms wrapping around his torso, the smell of warm leather filling her nose. He brought his left hand down and placed it over hers, their fingers intertwining. Her heart beat faster at his touch, as if no time had passed, but the way they had left things made her unsure if the joy would last.

_It was just after six when he appeared. She had been sitting on their rock, waiting for him to appear, just like always. He was behind her and she hadn't noticed him yet, so he stood watching her. Her hair was in a braid, like a line of fire snaking down her bare back. She had on a deep blue halter dress that shone against her fair skin, accentuating her budding breasts. It was his favorite color on her, the fabric was worn and was a size too small, but he knew she didn't have a whole lot to choose from. She was his rock, the one person he could show his innermost self to. Even in his pained state he couldn't help but notice how pretty she was. He shuffled up to her, his movements halting. She turned to look at him, knowing everything by the way his feet moved, but she was taken back when she saw his face._

_"Show me," she said, scooting over and patting the space on the warm rock next to her. He sat down gingerly as she turned to grab her back pack, the one she always brought with her. His right eye was swollen and purple, blood covering the lower half of his face and soaked into the front of his shirt. She pulled out a small towel and a bottle of water and gestured to him to remove his shirt. As he peeled it off, he gave a sharp cry as the dried blood on his back pulled away with the fabric, drawing fresh blood. He turned his back to her, where there was a long gash running from his right shoulder to the middle of his back._

_"I fought back again," he mumbled through gritted teeth as she started to gently wipe away the blood. "Guess that wasn't too smart." She stayed quiet, gently cleaning the wound so she could look at it._

_"This is gonna be bad when it heals. It's a lot deeper this time. I hate having to give you stitches. Like you haven't hurt enough," she said, her voice wavering. Things had gotten worse for him ever since Merle had gone to prison, and there was nothing she could do about it. His back was crisscrossed with scars, most of them smaller, but there were seven long pink ones that he had gotten over the years, always when Merle was away. She pulled some gauze and tape out, along with a needle and thread she had swiped from the medicine cabinet. She always made sure to only take some when her bag was getting low so her father wouldn't notice. She stitched the edges together as best she could, her fingers moving tenderly over his skin, then covered it with gauze and tape. She leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on his bandaged back, just between his shoulder blades, her signal that she was finished. "There, now let me see the rest."_

_He shifted slowly, turning until he was face to face with her. She moved to sit sideways between his legs, using the towel to clean the blood from his face and neck, then pinched his chin, turning his head side to side to assess the damage._

_"Well there's not much I can do with that eye without ice, but it doesn't look like your nose is broke, just bloody. You've got one hell of a fat lip though." She gave him a small smile, pain and understanding in her blue eyes. Her dad was the same way, but he usually only beat on her mom. Cat only got beat when her mother was asleep or not home. She leaned forward, cleaning the dried blood from his chest, one hand on his bare shoulder for balance. He caught a whiff of her hair, the smell of her citrus shampoo faint in his nostrils. He had always loved that smell on her, but today it made him feel different. He was feeling that way around her almost all the time now. He saw the freckles on her bare shoulders, sprinkled across her nose and cheeks, and had a sudden urge to touch them. His gaze moved lower, catching a glimpse of her pink nipple as she bent forward. His flesh tingled where her hand rested on his shoulder, and he felt a corresponding tingle in his groin. Why was he getting like that around her again? She was his best friend, there was no way she thought of him like that. He looked up at her eyes, the long lashes almost brushing her cheeks when she closed them. Another stirring down there made him shift, causing him to wince in a sudden flare of pain. She pulled her hands back when he did, worried that she had hit a tender spot._

_"S'ok, wasn't you," he said quietly, "just moved wrong." She gave a nod and continued, noticing that even though he was still scrawny, his chest and arms had begun to fill out with muscle. She set the towel down, the last traces of blood wiped away, and just stared at his face. He wasn't handsome in the classical sense, but to her he was the most beautiful person she had ever seen._

_"What?" he said, wondering why she was looking at him like that, and why he liked it so much._

_"Just, uh, making sure I got everything," she replied as her cheeks turned crimson. "Let me see your lip." She pinched his chin again and pulled it down, then used her thumb to roll his bottom lip out. They were like silk on her fingers, and her touch sent a jolt of electricity through him. "It seems to've stopped bleeding," she remarked, their faces mere inches from each other. She slid her thumb across his lip to his chin, wondering for the millionth time what it would feel like if she kissed him, and before she lost her nerve she closed the gap and pressed her lips to his._

_His eyes went wide and his breath caught in his throat. He had thought about kissing her so often lately, but he had never imagined just how good it would feel. Before she could pull away, he put his hand on the back of her neck and kissed her back, his tongue sliding out just enough to touch her teeth. Her mouth opened wider, and their tongues met, just barely gliding over each other. She let out a small moan, and his cock responded, straining against his dark denim jeans._

_He broke away, leaning his forehead against hers. "We shouldn't do that." His breathing was shallow as he tried to steady himself._

_"A'ight." It was just that one word, but he could hear the rejection in it, her shoulders slumping. She turned away, but not before he saw the glisten of tears in her blue eyes. His heart sunk._

_"It's just that I don't wanna mess things up," he stated softly. He stroked her arm with the back of his fingers. The last thing he had wanted to do was hurt her, but he knew that he had. She shrugged his hand off, her shoulders shaking in a silent sob. "Look at me," he pleaded, wishing he could take it back, "please, Kitten."_

_Even hurt she couldn't resist when he called her that. She turned to face him, and he was undone by the anger and pain in her eyes. He leaned forward, ignoring the scream of agony in his back, and covered her mouth with his. He cradled her face in his hands, his lips moving over hers in desperation as his thumbs wiped the tears from her cheeks. She melted into him, the sensation of his lips on hers like lightning, sending shocks down her spine. She felt a warmth blossom in her belly, making her moan. She couldn't believe it. She had thought he didn't like her, not like that, but he was kissing her like he did. More than that, like he wanted her._

_He slid his hands down her back, sending shivers across her bare skin. She touched his chest, feeling his pebbled nipples under the palms of her hands. She inched herself closer so that she was pressed against his hips, the warm surface of rock on the backs of her thighs. He brought a hand to the nape of her neck, toying with the loose tendrils of hair, the other hand at the small of her back, pulling her into him. He kissed a path down her jawline to the tender spot behind her ear, his lips and tongue tracing a line of fire across her flesh._

_"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, hoping she wouldn't. She felt better than any dream he had of her, dreams that had left him with a raging hard on when he woke._

_"No, don't stop, I like it." She felt the dampness in her panties, an unknown yearning for more, but what more was she didn't know. All she knew was that if he stopped she would go crazy. She could feel his hard length on her hip as his hips pushed against her, and gathering her courage, she slipped her hand down to press on it. It was longer than her hand, and seemed almost as thick as her wrist, and when her fingers dragged across the straining fabric, he groaned in her ear._

_"Oh god, Kitten, that feels so good." She shivered at his breath in her ear. He pulled at the ties on her dress, loosening the flimsy fabric that covered her breasts. He looked at her face, waiting for her protest, but the look he saw was the exact opposite. Her eyes were closed, lashes fluttering on her cheeks, mouth open just barely as if begging to be kissed. He willingly obliged, kissing her lips as if to devour her. He pulled the straps from her shoulders, baring her small breasts, cupping them in his hands. He gave them a gentle sqeeze, pinching her nipples and making her gasp at the pleasure. She fumbled at his waist, taking three tries to pop the button on his jeans before she could pull the zipper down. His boxers tented as his cock strained to be free of the restrictive clothes, as if begging to be touched. She complied and put a tentative finger on the tip, making it jerk in response._

_Keeping one hand at her breast, he put his other hand on her thigh, his fingers moving up the inside. She moved her knee, spreading her legs for him. He touched the cotton covering her sex and noticed how wet it was. He pressed his middle finger down and could feel her slit, hot and pulsing under his fingertip. She rocked her hips involuntarily, her breathing became heavier, and he pressed harder, feeling that little nub of pleasure._

_She was overcome with need at his touch, not even fully understanding it, but she knew she wanted him naked, to see every inch of him bared to her. She moved to her knees and pushed at the waist of his jeans, desperate to remove them. He braced himself up on the rock and lifted his hips, allowing her to pull them down to his knees, the pain in his back temporarily forgotten. She reached back up and hooked his boxers, sliding them down and off his engorged dick. She stared for a second, the sight of his manhood on display making her lick her lips with longing. She stood up, her dress pooling on the ground at her feet, and peeled off her panties. He took in her naked form, the pink areolas surrounding taut nipples, slightly rounded belly, and the patch of downy fire red hair between her legs._

_She crawled on his lap, straddling him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed him, her tongue delving into him as she ground her hips, his shaft sliding between her pussy, pressing on her clit. He held her waist, moving in rhythm with her as she picked up speed. Instinct drove her, her juices flowing over them, when stars exploded behind her eyes, her core clenching in orgasm, making her shift a little farther backward. When she rocked forward, instead of gliding across her clit, his cock slid into her, stretching and filling her. She cried out in painful ecstasy, at the same time a shuddering groan escaped him. She was so tight he almost came, but the suprise had made her hold still for a breath. When she moved again, he pumped his hips, driving himself deeper inside her._

_"Holy fuck," he growled, driving harder, desperate for release. "I didn't know it would feel like this." He slipped his hand between them and flicked her clit with his thumb, sending her over the edge just before him, her orgasm milking him for every drop. With a final shudder, she collapsed onto his shoulder, their breathing ragged. He kissed her neck where it met her shoulder, his hands moving lazily up and down her spine._

_"Dixie," she murmured, her voice a breathy whisper in his ear._

_"Hmmm..." he replied languidly._

_"Thank you."_

_"Anything for you, Kitten."_

_They made love three more times that evening, exploring the depths of each other until well past dark. When she had realized how late it was she hurriedly got dressed and pack up her things. She gave him one last, lingering kiss as he held her close, not wanting to let her go, and told him she'd see him tomorrow. It was the last time they would see each other for over 20 years._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

By the time they arrived at the walls of Alexandria it was after dark. As Daryl pulled up to the gate, nothing happened and he began to get worried. He killed the engine and she climbed off, removing her wrap, then handed him his crossbow once he had dismounted and leaned the bike on the kickstand. Their fingers brushed, sending a shock through them both. He saw her flush, her pink cheeks making her freckles stand out in the moonlight. The Caddy pulled in behind them, and the moment was gone, Daryl looking back at Aaron as he got out of the car.

"Hell is everyone?"

Aaron shook his head. "I don't know. I think Spencer's supposed to be on duty."

Morgan and TJ climbed out of the car as Aaron and Daryl went up to the gate. Morgan handed her her pack and went over to help. Daryl got it unlatched, then he and Aaron went back to the vehicles as Morgan slid it open. They pulled through and parked as Cat and TJ followed, Morgan closing and latching the gate behind them. Aaron and Daryl started down the street, looking for anyone. As Morgan and TJ hurried to catch up, she hung back, that sense that things were about to go sideways upon her again. Daryl looked back and realized that she had fallen behind and doubled back to get her.

"It's a'ight. You're safe here," he told her, taking her hand when he saw the look of dread on her face.

"Ok," she replied softly, letting him lead her, but she couldn't shake that feeling of wrongness again, the same way it felt before she heard that tank. Her gut was never wrong, but she tried to convince herself that it was just a combination of nerves at being in a camp and joy at finding Daryl.

They soon arrived at a gathering of people sitting around a fire just in time to see all hell break loose. There was a woman on the ground cradling a man's lifeless body in her lap, his blood covering them both. She was crying, mumbling "My love" over and over. Another man was being held to the ground by a very muscular man with the same fire red hair as her, screaming, "This is him! This is him!"

The woman looked up at a filthy, blood covered man standing next to her and growled, "Rick...do it."

Without any hesitation the man pulled his gun from it's holster, aimed it at the man being held on the ground, and pulled the trigger, his head exploding as a few of the women screamed in terror.

"Rick?" Morgan said in disbelief. The man with the gun looked up at hearing his name, and seemed to come to his senses at seeing his old friend. They stared at each other, Morgan reluctant to believe that this was the same man he knew before. As if a spell had been broken, chaos erupted in the group gathered around the fire, as some of the people began to shout, while others struggled to get away. She wrenched her hand from Daryl's and backed away. Her chest was tight, her breath coming in ragged gasps, she had to get away, she couldn't watch as another place was torn apart. Panic was on her full bore, she struggled to pull air into her lungs as she staggered away, her fingers clawing at the fabric around her neck. She kept moving, dark spots floating in front of her eyes, desperate to escape.

Daryl was torn, the people at the meeting had continued shouting, Rick and others were shouting back and Daryl could see that it would come to blows any second. But he needed to find her, make sure she was ok, but before he could decide he saw TJ go after her. He was both relieved that she was being looked after, and jealous because he had seen their exchange as they had gotten in the car to leave the warehouse.

By the time TJ caught up to her, she had collapsed on her side in a yard, on the verge of blacking out. She continued to claw at her chest, the pain like a vice, squeezing her. She felt as if she were deep underwater, her body being crushed.

"Mama! I'm here, you're alright," he soothed. He picked her up and got her on her feet, gathering her in his arms and holding her tight. His voice allowed her to gain a moment of focus.

"Can't...breathe...hurts," she wheezed. He suddenly realized that she wasn't scared, she was having a full blown panic attack.

"Ok, you're ok, just look at me, listen to my voice," he said, making his words calm and sure. He grabbed her hands and held them still, other hand at the base of her neck, and kept talking, his face just inches from hers. "You're safe, nothing is gonna hurt you, I'm right here with you. Keep looking at me, listen to me, one, two, three, four, five, five, four, three, two, one." He continued counting, up and back from five, keeping a gentle rhythm. She did as he said, concentrating on his lips as they moved. Slowly the tightness in her chest abated, her breathing less erratic, and he could feel her arms relax under his hand. He kept counting, almost like a mild hypnosis, for almost three minutes, until her breathing was somewhat back to normal.

"Doing ok now?" he asked gently.

"Yeah, I'm ok now. I don't know about stayin here, though. Not after last time." Her eyes darted around, full of terror.

"I know it's hard, but let's try. I saw that smile when you got on that bike. You aren't walking away from that," TJ told her.

She nodded, and smiled up at him. "What would I do without ya?" He wrapped his arms around her again.

At that moment Daryl had been heading towards them when he saw their exchange. It stopped him cold as anger welled up inside him. He knew he had no claim to her, but seeing her being touched by another man was more than he could take, especially one that looked half her age. He envisioned walking over and throttling TJ. He held his composure as he closed the gap between them.

"Most everyone's gone. Rick says come over." His words were clipped and practically dripping venom. He spun on his heel and strode back towards the fire, his back tense with anger.

His actions took her by surprise. He had been so elated at seeing her, so reassuring as they walked in, but he had done a 180 and it was as if he wanted her gone. Tears stung her eyes, and she silently cursed him for having so much sway over her still. She and TJ followed Daryl back to the fire, Cat still holding on to TJ's arm for support, where Rick and Morgan were waiting. Daryl hung back, shooting daggers at them with his eyes.

"I'm Rick," the man that had used the gun said, holding out his hand to TJ. He was sweaty, his face and beard covered in blood, along with his shirt and jacket. He wore dark jeans, with the gun back in it's holster, slung low on his right hip. The fire made the shadows on his bandaged face dance menacingly, as his brows knit together. "I'm sorry you had to see that. There's an explanation for all of it."

TJ took his hand, but seemed unsure. "If you say so. TJ."

Rick turned to her. "You must be Cat." He eyed her warily as she shrank from him, not taking his offered hand, trying to discern how and where these two fit in with Morgan and Daryl. He asked the tank of a redhead, Abraham, to remove the bodies while he dealt with the new people.

Morgan gave her a questioning look, and she nodded, slipping from TJ's grasp to stand on her own. "I'm a'ight now."

Daryl watched the exchange angrily. How could she still make him feel like this after all she had done to him? His emotions were all jumbled up inside, and he hated it. Cat had been watching him out of the corner of her eye during the exchange. She saw the war of emotions raging inside him. She wanted to run up and take him in her arms, apologize for everything she had done to him, soothe his fears and frustrations, just like when they were kids, but she knew he needed space to work things out. And she did too. She was over the moon that he was in her life again, but the years between their last night and this one had scarred her deeply, and all the fears and insecurities came roaring back on her. She didn't want him to see her this way. She had always been his rock, and she couldn't be that when she was broken like she was.

Rick saw Cat watching Daryl, and Daryl watching her, and knew instinctively that there was some deep history there. Aaron had quickly told him of their exchange on the road, and the cop in him needed to find answers. He decided to start digging in the morning.

"Come on, let's go." He started off, leading them to his house. She was lost in her own thoughts, Rick and Morgan talking low as they walked ahead of her and TJ, Daryl following behind. Most of the houses they passed were dark, but scattered throughout she could see a porch light on, or an interior light shining through a window. The street itself was dark, only the light of a full moon guiding them. It was strange to her, all this seeming normalcy in the midst of chaos. There was an undercurrent, however, of tension and fear. She had sensed it at the meeting, and she wondered at the events that had led up to the shooting. Her first impression of Rick was not good, and it clashed with the picture that Morgan had painted of him. It only took a couple minutes to reach Rick's house, where they went inside and into the kitchen.

Rick filled three bowls with soup and gave them to Morgan, TJ and Cat. "Here, eat. Then you can get some rest." Daryl handed Rick the map Morgan had, whispered something to him, then sat down across the island from them with his own bowl. He made a point to ignore them as he shovelled food into his mouth. While they ate, Rick quickly went through their bags, checking for guns.

Morgan turned to Rick and gave a low chuckle. " You were right. It wasn't over. "

Rick turned around and replied, "We should talk more tomorrow. Listen, I don't take chances anymore." Daryl stopped dead at that, unsure what Rick was implying.

"And you shouldn't." Morgan understood what Rick meant. "We don't have to stay here."

Rick paused, not sure what to do. He wanted to keep an eye on them, but he was uncomfortable with them under the same roof as Carl and Judith. Then he remembered the house Michonne had put him in after the fight with Pete. "I know what to do."

Cat kept glancing at Daryl from the corner of her eye, trying to discern how he was feeling, but he was unreadable, refusing to look at her. When they finished eating, Daryl stayed behind, Cat throwing one last look over her shoulder at him, but he refused to acknowledge her. Rick took them to the row of townhouses in the middle of the town and descended the dozen steps to a basement door. He unlocked a security screen door that had been hung and led them through a regular door to the interior. He located a switch and the room was bathed in soft yellow light, displaying an unfinished basement. The walls were still unpainted, and they could see the patches of mud on the drywall seams. There was the gleam of metal in the darkened bathroom, and a second unfinished room next to it. The interior stairwell in the second room had been temporarily blocked off with plywood.

"This house isn't finished like the others, but the lights all work, and there's hot running water. I'll be by in the morning and we can talk."

"Thank you, Rick. We'll see you in the morning," Morgan replied, following Rick back to the door. They shook hands again, and Rick headed out, locking the doors behind him. Morgan turned around and blew out a long breath before shrugging off his pack and setting down his staff. She watched him, wondering what he made of everything, but he kept his counsel. "Well, let's grab some shut eye, tomorrow's gonna be a long day. You can have that room if you want, Cat. Give you a little privacy," Morgan said, indicating the room next to the bathroom.

"Thanks," she said quietly and headed in the room. TJ followed her to the doorway.

"You ok? Want me to stay in here with you?"

"No, I prob'ly won't be sleepin much, don't wanna keep ya up. Need some time. Thanks, though." TJ nodded and left her alone. She set up her sleeping bag on the floor, then took off her boots and stripped down to her tank top, leaving her pants on. She slid into the bag, but she lay awake, her mind swirling and head pounding as the hours dragged on. She kept replaying the events from earlier in her head, until they morphed into the night they had lost the last camp, and she had almost lost TJ.

_She lay on the picnic table, hands bound behind her and her pants around her ankles, left alone in the night. She stood up and dropped to the ground, crawling under the table to hide until she could free herself. Her knife was still in it's sheath, so she twisted around until she could grab the handle, then pulled it out. She spun it so that it was in between her hands, then carefully cut the rope binding her, thankful she had kept it sharpened._

_Once she was free she yanked her pants back up and peered out, taking in the carnage. Three of the RVs were on fire, bodies scattered everywhere, but the attackers seemed to have fled in the night, the gunfire had ceased, as well as the screaming. She ventured out, needing to find TJ. She headed in the direction he had gone, having left that morning on a supply run. She moved slowly and cautiously, terrified of running into their attackers, all of her things gone, only the clothes on her back and the knife on her hip._

_She gained the road, staying just inside the treeline as she made her way towards the town TJ had gone to scavenge. She had lost everything else, she couldn't lose him too, it would break her. She could feel blood seeping from the wound in her head and from between her legs. She walked through the night, reaching the town just before daybreak, her legs stumbling from pain and exhaustion, her head swimming from the concussion she knew she had. She made it to the library, knowing that it was clear of the undead, and went inside, collapsing behind the desk as the world went dark._

_Something had a hold of her right arm, and was shaking her. Her eyes flew open, immediately grabbing for her knife with the left, thinking an undead had her. She swung, but a strong hand caught her wrist, and she looked up to see TJ's face above her, terror in his ice blue eyes._

_"Mama, it's me, you're ok," he soothed. Her arm relaxed as his words sunk in, and everything came flooding back. She burst into tears as he gathered her in his arms, relief flooding him that she was still alive. "I thought I lost you."_

_She clung to him as the sobs dwindled, then pulled back to look at his face. Patchy stubble covered his cheeks and chin. "How long has it been?" She croaked, her throat parched._

_He handed her his canteen as he answered. "Almost two days, everyone else is either dead or gone. I couldn't find you anywhere. I only came in here because it was your favorite place. Wanted to just feel close to you one last time." He broke down at that, tears streaming down his face._

_Cat flung her arms around him, rocking him gently. "From now on, just the two of us. No more groups, no more outsiders. We're safer on our own."_

Back at Rick's house, Daryl sat on the darkened porch cleaning his crossbow. He wanted nothing more than to go over and see her, talk to her, but he couldn't bring himself to get up. He studied the building, wondering if she was currently banging that TJ guy. He still wanted her, more than ever, there was no denying it, but she had broken him when she left.

He wasn't going to let her do it again. He was startled from his musings as Rick came out the door, but quickly went back to cleaning his crossbow. Ever observant, Rick had caught Daryl staring across the way and smirked. He sat down on the steps next to him and watched for awhile before he spoke.

"So you gonna tell me what the deal is there?" Rick asked, pointing towards the house across the street.

"Nuthin," Daryl remarked, putting the crossbow down and pulling a cigarette from his pocket. He lit it and added, "Just knew each other from before. We were kids."

"Ok," Rick said with a shrug. He knew there was more, but didn't push it. Daryl would just shut down if he did.

"Ya did the right thing. He needed put down," Daryl said, changing the subject. "Any man who puts his hands on a woman don't deserve to live."

Rick nodded in agreement. "It's a shame about Reg. He was a good man." The silence stretched out as Daryl smoked his cigarette and Rick waited patiently, knowing he would talk eventually.

"It ain't right. Puttin em in there," Daryl stated quietly.

"They'll be alright. It was Morgan's idea," Rick retorted.

"It's got a bed and a bath, but it's still a cell," Daryl mumbled. They had saved his life. He didn't understand Rick's complete distrust, especially for someone who Rick knew, but he let it go for the moment.

Rick stood up, putting his hand on Daryl's shoulder. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow is gonna be a long one." Rick headed in the house, leaving Daryl alone with his thoughts.

"Yeah, it is."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

**564 he's alive! dixie's alive its unreal he's been with morgan's friend rick i don't know what to feel what to do my heads reeling i wanna grab him and never let go but i think he still hates me for what i did i should have gone back again not listened to merle and gone back to him he would've helped it wasn't my fault i know that now why was i so stupid surprised he even read the letters**

Cat slammed her notebook closed and flung it across the room, tears stinging her eyes. She pressed the heels of her hands on them, willing them away. There would be time for that later. She had barely slept last night, between her roiling emotions over Daryl, her earlier panic attack and her unfamiliar surroundings she spent most of the night staring at the ceiling. When she had slept it was fitful, full of forgotten nightmares.

As the first hint of light graced the morning sky, she gave up her fruitless effort and climbed out of bed. Dressed in just her white tank top and pants, she dug through her bag and pulled out her only other clothes and set them out on her sleeping bag, then grabbed her washcloth, towel and soap. She heard movement from the other room as someone headed to the bathroom, so she waited.

TJ came out after a couple minutes so she took her turn in the bathroom. She took her clothes off and got in the shower. She washed the dried blood out of her hair, working out the matted snarl. She finished washing up and got out, drying off and slipping into clean underwear and a black bra, then clean pants, skipping her shirt for the moment so her hair wouldn't get it wet. She looked in the mirror, checking the cut on her head. It wasn't deep, so she let it alone and went back to her room, while Morgan started his exercises, TJ following along with him.

She dried her hair as best she could, lost in thought, and didn't hear the doors open and Rick and Daryl come in. She had just pulled her damp hair into a loose bun at the back of her head, her back to the door. She stood with her hands on her hips, head hung down, her mind still whirling.

Daryl glanced in her room and when he saw her he stopped in his tracks. He didn't hear Rick and Morgan talking behind him. There was just her. Both her arms had full sleeve tattoos, full of color on her right, black and grey on the left, and he could see the edges of more ink along her sides, but seeing what was on her back sent him over the edge.

He spun on his heel and closed the gap between him and TJ and swung, his fist connecting with TJ's jaw. They both rolled to the ground exchanging blows, taking both Rick and Morgan by surprise, both of them too stunned to intervene at first.

"Ya sunuvabitch! Oughta do to you whatcha did to her!" Daryl yelled, breaking Cat from her thoughts. She whirled around to see the two of them on the floor fighting, Rick and Morgan finally jumping in to break them up. She yanked her tshirt on and came running out of the room. Everyone was screaming as Rick pulled Daryl up, Morgan grabbing TJ, and the cacaphony in the echoey room was deafening.

"ENOUGH!" she bellowed, silencing them all. "What the hell is happening?!" Both Daryl and TJ were bloodied, chests heaving as they came to their senses.

Daryl yanked his arm from Rick's grip. "Forget it. Ya want this piece of shit you can have him," he snarled in Cat's face, pointing at TJ. With that he pushed past her and stormed out the door.

She was instantly furious. It was one thing to hate her, but she wouldn't stand for his attitude towards TJ. She went after him, catching him on the stairs. She grabbed his upper arm and spun him around, her fingers digging into his arm through his shirt sleeve.

"What the hell is your problem?" She snarled, her eyes blazing with fury like he'd never seen before.

"Ain't got one. Ya wanna be with some one who treats ya like that, then don't expect me to stick around," he growled back at her, stepping down towards her.

"What the hell are you talking about?" she asked, getting confused, her grip loosening.

He got closer to her, their faces just inches apart so only she would hear him, towering over her. "I saw what he did to your back." He ran a finger up her spine. "Ya think I'd stick around to see more of that?" His voice was a harsh whisper.

He watched as understanding dawned on her face, her eyes growing wide as the anger left them. "Ya don't know who he is. It wasn't you that read em," she whispered, more to herself than him, her breath on his skin tearing him in two, wanting to get away from her and kiss her all at the same time.

It was his turn to be confused. "What are YOU talkin about?"

Her face softened and she gave him a sad smile. "Just come back. There's somethin ya need to see. It'll explain a lot." She took his hand in both of hers, and added in a whisper, "Please, Dixie."

He was done, she had hooked him with those last two words. His face softened a bit and he squeezed her hands, following her back inside, still scowling. Rick and Morgan looked tense, ready to jump in if they decided to start beating each other again. TJ looked hurt, not physically but emotionally. She turned to Daryl and gave him a pleading look. "Wait, please."

He gave her a nod as he chewed his lip, so she let go of his hand and walked over to TJ. She pulled his head down so she could whisper something in his ear. His face softened, and he gave her a nod. Then she took a look at his face, which was swollen and bleeding. "Well, your nose ain't broke, just need cleaned up." She turned to Rick. "Ya got an infirmary or somethin?"

"Yeah. We can get him bandaged up," Rick said warily. 

"Ok, can ya give us some time?" she asked, pointing towards Daryl. "We need to talk."

Rick looked from her to Daryl. Daryl gave him a nod, hands on his hips, then looked away. "Alright, I'll drop him off at the infirmary, then Morgan and I need to talk. I'll come back later."

"Thanks." She gave TJ's hand a squeeze as he left, then waited until everyone had left and the door closed. She let out a long sigh, then moved towards the other room. "C'mon. Sit," she told him, pointing at her sleeping bag on the floor. Between his blank expression and the blood, his face was hard to read as he sat down. She knelt down and dug through her bag, pulling out a first aid kit and some sort of box wrapped in a flannel shirt. She moved to kneel beside him and sat there, waiting for him to look at her. When he finally did, she brushed the hair from his forehead, a small smile on her face.

"This will explain a lot," she said, holding the box on her lap. "I found it in your old house, buried in what was left of your room. I thought it was yours, which is why I kept it, but it must be Merle's. Read what's inside, and then I'll answer any questions ya have." She handed him the box, and picked up her first aid kit. "In the meantime I'm gonna get ya cleaned up and make sure he didn't break ya."

He looked up at her with a scowl to see her struggling not to giggle. When he just scowled harder she bust out laughing.

"Just shut up and fix me already," he grumbled, trying desperately not to laugh himself. Even after more than 20 years he still couldn't resist her laugh.

He watched as she went to wet the towel in the bathroom, then came back and knelt back down beside him, trying to calm himself. As she cleaned him off, he opened up the shirt that the box was wrapped in and sucked in his breath. It was Merle's box alright, one that he had forbidden Daryl from ever looking in. He ran his hand across the top, his mind flashing back to the day Daryl had found it.

_"Hey, Merle, is this it?" Daryl called out as he pulled an ornate wooden box from the top shelf of the closet. It was beautifully carved, with an intricate scroll pattern across the top, like one of those Irish knots. Daryl ran his hand across the top, the smooth finish like silk under his fingers. He started to lift the lid when Merle walked in._

_"Don't open that! Ain't yours!" Merle bellowed at him, crossing the room and snatching it from Daryl's hands._

_"A'ight, chill man, don't wanna see your pornos anyway."_

_"You're too much of a pussy to watch em anyway, Darylina," Merle told him._

Daryl scowled at the memory, then gingerly lifted the lid. Inside was just a jumbled stack of envelopes, but as he flipped through he realized that he recognized the handwriting. It was hers, and all the envelopes were addressed to him, and all of them were open. His eyes darted to hers, questions swirling in his head as she cleaned his face. She just nodded and kept working, bandaging the cut on his cheek, then moving on to the one above his eye.

He picked one up and pulled out the letter inside. It was two pages of her loopy left-handed scrawl, folded in thirds, with a picture inside. There was a boy, about 6 or 7, with a giant grin on his face sitting in front of a birthday cake. As he read the letter, the terrible realization of what he had just done hit him like a freight train. His hands dropped into his lap as he stared at the wall in front of him.

She saw the instant it clicked, just as she put the last steri-strip over his eyebrow, and sat down facing him. She slid the box from his lap, and set the papers in his hand back in the box. She watched the pain in his eyes build until the tears came, and when they did it was like the levee broke. Everything he had been holding in all those years came out, and he sobbed like a child.

She pulled him to her, laying his head in her lap as he finally let it all go. He flung his arms around her waist and buried his face in her shirt as sobs wracked his body. She ran her fingers through his hair, her hands moving over the back of his neck. Time passed unnoticed, until he slowly began to calm down, the sobs quieting, until there was only the occasional sniffle.

Finally, he pulled away and looked up at her, the sweet smile that drove him mad shining down on him."Ya feelin better?" she asked softly, her thumb brushing across his cheek.

All he could do was give a quick nod, afraid his voice would betray him. He toyed with the hem of her shirt, her hand resting on his chest. "Ask me," she said, reading his face as easily as she had all those years ago.

"Where'd ya go? Ya just disappeared that night. I thought it was my fault, til Merle got in my head and convinced me it was your fault. I've blamed ya for a long time."

"I shoulda stayed with ya that night insteada goin home. Who knows what mighta been." She paused, staring back into her memories, trying to figure out where to begin.

"When I walked in the house that night after I left ya, I found Father in the kitchen, standing over Mother's body. He had killed her. I tried to run, my first thought was to get to you so I'd be safe. But I tripped on the stairs and he caught me. Dragged me back inside by my hair and forced me to clean up her blood. He stuffed her in the trunk with a couple suitcases and we left. He drove for days. I was in shock. I know at some point he stopped and dumped her body, but to this day I couldn't tell you where."

Tears flowed down her cheeks as she recalled that night, but once she started she couldn't stop, the words tumbling out of her. "We spents months driving, staying a couple days somewhere and moving on. He would starve me, beat me, then get drunk and pass out. In May we were in Indiana when I got sick. My stomach hurt, I was nauseous but couldn't throw up, it was awful. After three days of agony I begged him to take me to the hospital. I swore I would lie and not tell them my real name, just as long as he would take me. He finally relented and dumped me at the ER. Turned out I was in labor. I had TJ an hour later. Father was raging when we got discharged. Called me every name in the book. Told me since I was so grown up he didn't need to buy a woman anymore."

Cat took a shuddering breath before she continued, trying unsuccessfully to keep her voice under control as she stared at the wall. "He started rapin me that night. Pretty soon he settled in Parish, New York, some backwater town up north where all the drunks blend in. That's where he discovered his favorite form of torture. He would be fuckin me from behind, and when he was ready to cum he would put his cigar out on my back. That's what ya saw. Two years worth of scars back there." She tilted her head up at the ceiling, unable to look at him. She couldn't bear to see the disgust she knew would be there.

His heart broke as she told her story, wanting nothing more than to hunt her father down and obliterate him. He guessed that there was over a hundred scars on her back, some worse than others. He sat up and looked at her, truly seeing her for the first time since they were kids. He brought her face down to look at him, seeing the pain behind the mask she wore for the world, the anger at her gone, his love for her rushing in to fill the void. He took her hand, caressing it with his thumb as she continued, relieved to see he wasn't scared away.

"The final straw for me was the night he hit TJ. Father was drunk as usual and TJ had somehow gotten in his crosshairs. He struck my two year old baby across the back. All I could see was all the scars ya had from years of abuse. Right then I knew I wouldn't allow him to grow up like we did.

So I put TJ to bed and forced alcohol on Father all night, getting him drunk to the point he couldn't stand. Then I grabbed the bat, told him we were leaving. He tried to get up and that's when I swung. And I kept swinging. I killed him. Then I cleaned myself off, packed up everthing I could and we left. Just started walking. I decided to go find ya, so I bought a greyhound ticket and went back to Georgia.

When we got to your house Merle was there. Said you were gone. Told me ya hated me, said he wouldn't let a little whore like me with some asshole's bastard get ya all twisted around. That I just wanted to pin my kid on ya for money. I believed him, so I left. We spent two years on the road, bummin rides or walkin, didn't matter. Ended up in Pennsylvania, just outside Philadelphia. That's when things changed.

TJ was almost 5, we were beggin on a street corner when this little old lady walkin by stopped and asked if we could help her out. Said she needed a hand finding a diner in the area. Next thing I knew all three of us were sittin in that diner when her husband Steven showed up. He didn't even blink, just sat down, apologized for bein late, and asked if we had decided what we were gonna eat.

Mama P told me years later that she had planned it, they had seen us a few days earlier and decided to help us. They ended up takin us in. Thanks to her I became a nurse, and TJ grew up in a home full of love. They never raised their voices, taught me how to break the cycle of abuse. They were the parents I never had."

Cat stared off into space. Losing Mama P still made her heart break. She fought back the tears that were threatening to escape.

"TJ doesn't know about Mother or Father, or what he did to me. He knows bad things happened to me, but he also knows I won't talk about it. You're the only person I've ever told."

She picked up the picture that was in the letter, brushing her fingers across it. "This was his seventh birthday. Mama P made his favorite cake, pistachio. She was the one who told me to write ya. Said I 'shouldn't take what his stupid brother said to heart'." Cat laughed and swiped a lone tear from her cheek. "She was right again. These are the only photos left. What's in here is all there is."

"Well, she was definitely right about Merle. He could be real stupid sometimes. Why wouldn't he want me to know? He was all about family and blood stickin together."

Cat looked at Daryl in disbelief. "Ya really don't know? Cause he knew he woulda lost ya. He knew ya woulda dropped everything if ya found out about me and TJ."

"Yeah, that sounds like Merle," Daryl chuckled. He grew quiet, playing with her hand like he did when they were little. It didn't feel right though, as if something was missing.

"C'mere," he said softly, tugging on her hand. "Ya ain't sittin right."

She gave him a funny look, but got up on her knees and moved closer. He put his hands on her hips and pulled her into his lap so that she was sitting sideways. He put his arm around her back, tucking her into the crook of his arm as he leaned against the wall. His laced his free hand into hers, his thumb caressing the side of her hand. "Better."

She chuckled at that, snuggling deeper into him, laying her head on his shoulder. She slipped her hand under his vest, fingernails tracing across the shirt on his back. She could feel the raised scars through the fabric, remembering all the times she had patched him up. The world grew quiet around them as they sat, just like they used to all those years ago.

The next thing Daryl knew, Rick was there, kicking him awake. Cat was asleep on his lap, while Rick just stood there with a smirk on his face.

"What's up?" Daryl asked, his voice hoarse. He discreetly pressed his fingers into Cat's side, nudging her awake.

"We got a problem," Rick said, his face growing serious. "You need to come see."

*****************************

Cat, Daryl, Morgan and Rick stood at the edge of a cliff, looking down at a sea of undead in the afternoon sun.

"Morgan and I found it when we were burying Pete. That truck's about to go," Rick explained, pointing to a semi perched at the edge of a cliff across the quarry. "That goes, they're headed straight for Alexandria."

Cat was looking through Morgan's binoculars, watching more undead slide down a cliff to the main herd. She had never seen so many before, there had to be 20-30,00 easily.

"Do you have a plan?" She asked him warily, peeling her eyes from the quarry to look at Rick as Daryl moved off to get a different view, making her nervous.

"I've got the beginning of one. Lot of moving parts."

"Movin parts means more that could go wrong. Should have some contingencies in place."

"Yeah, got a lot to figure out yet." Rick looked around, making sure Daryl was out of earshot. "What the hell set him off like that this morning?" Rick asked, stepping closer to her. "Losing Sophia, the prison, Terminus, Beth, none of that brought him anywhere close to that level."

Cat started at the mention of the prison and Terminus. "Prison? West Georgia Correctional?"

"Yeah. How'd you know that?" Rick asked, his suspicion rising.

"You were attacked by a tank, weren't ya?" She shuddered, stepping back from Rick, knowing the answer. Then it dawned on her, and tears stung her eyes, threatening to escape. Daryl had been there, so close, if only she hadn't been so afraid.

"How do you know that?" Rick asked her again, his voice rising in anger. "Were you with the Governor?!" His anger grew as he stood over her, his hand gripping the butt of his gun.

She could feel panic grip her as he towered over her. Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes darting around to find an escape, her back to edge of the quarry. Morgan was next to her, watching Rick as if he didn't recognize him, frozen in place.

"ANSWER ME! WERE. YOU. WITH. THE GOVERNOR?!" He took a step back and pulled his revolver, pointing it at her, the barrel just inches from her face.

Daryl had gone running back when he first heard Rick yelling. "Yo, Rick, back the hell off!" Daryl yelled, inserting himself between them and pushing Rick away. "The hell's your problem?"

Rick took a couple steps back, his face red with anger. "She knows about the prison! They were with the Governor!" He yelled, still pointing the gun at her as Daryl stood between them.

Daryl turned to look at her. "Were ya?" he asked, his voice filled with dread at her answer.

All she could do was shake her head. Her heart was in her throat, beating like a hummingbird's wings. She tried to draw in air, but it felt stuck. She could hear the explosions of the tank in her head, like it was happening again. She covered her ears, trying to block it out, but it was inside her, assaulting her. She shook her head, wanting it to stop, gasping for air that wouldn't move. Her vision was getting blurry, and her head felt fuzzy.

Daryl watched her eyes glaze over and knew he had to act quick or she was going out. "Stay back," he growled, pushing Rick away, Morgan jumping in to keep Rick back as Daryl turned to Cat. He remembered what TJ had done to her the night before and took her face in his hands, bringing his face close so that he was all that she could see. "Kitten, look at me. I'm right here, you're safe with me. C'mon, right here."

He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs as he talked, his voice a low rumble. Her eyes cleared, but her breathing was still shallow and rapid. "Breathe with me, real slow, in," he took a breath in, "and out." He blew the breath out, then did it again, nodding as she started to join him. After a couple more breaths, she was feeling calm enough to answer.

"No, not there, but TJ and I were nearby," she said slowly, still trying to keep the panic at bay. She focused on Daryl's eyes, like the blue of the ocean during a storm. Her hands gripped his biceps like a vice, nails digging into the skin through his leather sleeves. "We were on the road, had passed the prison, giving it a wide berth because I could hear people there. You and your group apparently. Later that day we passed another camp, they had a tank. It gave me a bad feeling so we swung wide to avoid them, which sent us back towards the prison. The next day I had this sinking feeling that something was gonna happen, and we tried to get as far away as possible, but that night," she shook her head at the memory. "I heard it, the explosions, the firefight..." She trailed off, lip trembling as she realized that Daryl was in that. "You were there," she whispered, tears welling in her eyes again. "That was you."

Daryl pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. She buried her head in the crook of his neck as he whispered in her ear, "Shh, I'm alright, Kitten. Don't cry." He turned and gave Rick a death glare. "Hell's your problem, Rick?"

Rick realized what he had done, looking sheepish as he holstered his weapon, but relieved to know they hadn't been in the Governor's group. If they had been, he might not have been so keen on them staying.

"Terminus? That was you as well?" Morgan asked, walking over to Rick. He wasn't surprised when Rick nodded in ascent.

"Alot has happened since we saw each other last. I'm sorry, Cat. I'm still on edge and overreacted."

She gave him a nod, face still buried in Daryl's shoulder, but Daryl was still glaring at him, one hand at her back, the other stroking her hair as he held her tight.

"We've been through a lot, lost good people. It feels like no matter how hard I try, things just keep going bad. I'm not sure if I know how to hope anymore." Rick had never admitted that before, even to himself, but saying it out loud seemed to lift a weight from his chest.

"Things will always be hard in this world Rick. But without hope we die. In here," Morgan said, tapping his chest. "You are still a good man, Rick Grimes."

Rick gave a small nod, then glanced at his watch. "We need to head back. I've gotta talk to Deanna, see how she's holding up." Rick turned and headed off, Morgan following reluctantly behind him.

"C'mon, let's get back," Daryl said softly, pulling her head up to look at him. "Won't let anything happen to ya, promise. Ya hear me?"

Cat nodded and scrubbed her face with her hands, taking a steadying breath. "Yeah, I hear ya," she whispered, and they headed out to catch up with Rick and Morgan.

"You didn't join our session this morning. You goin soft on me now?" Morgan quipped as they walked back to the vehicles, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yup. I'm hanging up my bow. Gonna get a job in finance," she retorted, but was unable to keep a straight face.

"If you do as well in finance as you do cooking groundhog, I think I'll do my own taxes this year," he shot back with a laugh.

"It was one time!" She exclaimed in exasperation. "You are not gonna let me live that down are ya?"

"Nope. You have to live with that groundhog for the rest of your days," Morgan teased.

She chuckled at that, feeling a little better. She still didn't know about Rick, but she felt better knowing Daryl was there for her. She slipped her hand in his as they walked, and he brought her hand up to his lips, kissing it lightly.

Dusk was just starting to fall as they arrived at the vehicles. Rick and Morgan led the way in the car, Daryl and Cat rumbling behind on his bike. Her stomach was growling as they rode back, and she realized that she hadn't eaten all day. She tucked her head into his back, breathing through the nausea that the hunger brought on. He glanced over his shoulder at her, concerned.

"A'ight?" He shouted at her over the roar of the engine and the wind. She wavered her hand in reply as another wave of nausea hit her. She leaned over the side as she dry heaved, nothing but spit and bile coming up. He tried to pull over but she waved him on, not wanting him to stop. By the time they got back to the gates, night had fallen. They drove towards Rick's house, stopping at the one next to it, where TJ was standing on the porch, a tiny woman with short grey hair standing with him, looking almost matronly in her slacks and blouse and cardigan.

Cat got off gingerly, Daryl holding her arm to steady her. "Hey, ya ok?" He asked quietly as he got off. "What was that about back there?"

"Just haven't eaten is all," she told him, waving it off. "Ain't the first time, won't be the last, I'm sure."

"Shit, Kitten." Daryl looked up to the woman on the porch. "Hey! We got anythin to eat?" He asked as they started up the steps, his hand at her back.

"Food will be ready shortly," she responded sweetly as they approached, her eyes missing nothing. "Hi, I'm Carol," she said, holding her hand out to Cat. She had an air of motherly charm about her, but Cat sensed the steele beneath it, like she was putting on an act to conceal what she was capable of.

"Cat. I see you've already met TJ." She turned to him, asking, "How's your nose?" He had a black eye and a cut on the bridge of his nose, but he was smiling.

"You were right, not busted. Carol's been giving me the tour. They got something good here."

"Ya ready?" she asked him. He gave her an excited nod, so she turned and waved Daryl over. Rick and Morgan held their breaths, unsure of what was gonna happen. Daryl came up the last couple steps and stood facing TJ.

Cat sucked in a breath, truly seeing how much alike they looked. "Daryl, I'd like to introduce ya to your son, Daryl Thomas Dixon, Jr," she said, her voice wavering.

Everyone's jaws dropped at her words. TJ held out his hand. "No hard feelings. You didn't know."

Daryl swatted his hand away and pulled him into an embrace. Tears slipped from Cat's eyes to see the two men she loved most in the world brought together.

Carol broke the silence first. "Well, it sounds like you guys have some stories to tell," she said with a laugh. "Come on, we can talk while we eat."

With TJ's help, Carol had prepared a small feast for the six of them. Daryl and Cat sat next to each other, with Rick and Morgan on the ends and Carol and TJ across from them. Of course everyone wanted to hear how Cat had appeared with who she claimed was Daryl's son in tow. So Cat regaled them with a few tales of their childhood, gave them a very scaled back story of how teenage curiosity led to her being pregnant. She had moved away after a death in the family without a chance to say goodbye. Family members conspiring to keep them apart. TJ knew more of the real story, but he understood that it was their's to tell as they wished. Daryl for his part kept quiet, turning beet red when she got to their daliance.

Then Morgan told of how he had come across them, just after the prison assault, how they were unknowingly following Rick and the group. The map that led them north, getting lost and happening upon Daryl and Aaron.

Carol was amazed at the coincidences, remarking about fate and how things were meant to be, while Rick kept silent. Daryl had kept his left hand on her thigh the entire time, as if he was afraid that if he let go she might evaporate.

After he was done eating, Rick excused himself to go speak with Deanna. "Rick, wait up," Daryl called out, as he hopped up to catch him at the door. Daryl spoke quietly, his arms gesturing. At first Rick shook his head no, but Daryl pushed until Rick finally relented and left.

She gave him a questioning look as he returned to the table, but he waved her off and mouthed 'Later'.

Soon they had all had their fill, and Carol stood up to start clearing the table. "Sit down, I've got this," TJ said, taking the plates from her hand. "You did enough already. I'll get the dishes done." He started to clear the table and disappeared into the kitchen.

Daryl stood up, then leaned down to whisper in her ear, "I'll come rescue ya shortly." Then he grabbed some more dishes and followed TJ out.

"Well, Cat, you must've done something right to raise such a gentleman," Carol noted.

"I can't take all the credit there. Mama P had a hand in that. She didn't take any gruff from him, even when he batted those lashes at her," Cat laughed.

"Oh, I've gotta hear more about Mama P," Carol exclaimed. Cat told Carol and Morgan about Mama P and her husband Steven. How they had taken in her and TJ, helped her finish high school and earn her nursing degree. How Steven taught TJ to ride a bike, and tie a tie, but how he would purposely mess it up so Steven would fix it.

Soon TJ and Daryl reappeared from the kitchen, both rolling their sleeves down in an eerily similar manner.

"Ya ready?" Daryl asked Cat as he buttoned the cuffs of his sleeves.

"I am. Thank you for dinner, Carol, it was wonderful."

"Rick said for ya to meet him back at his place," Daryl told Morgan. "C'mon, kid, you're comin too. Night Carol."

"Night Pookie!" she called after him with a giggle.

"Pookie, huh?" Cat teased as they left Carol's house.

"She does that cause she knows I hate it," Daryl admitted.

They walked over to the house they had spent last night in. Daryl led them down the steps. "Grab your stuff, ya ain't spendin another night in a cage."

Cat gave his hand a squeeze as she stepped by him to grab her bag. "Thank you."

Once they were back outside, Daryl led them down the street to a house midway down the block. "You're gonna stay here at Aaron's with me. Already talked to him bout it last night." They mounted the steps and Daryl gave a quick knock before opening the door.

"Hey, we were wondering if you were comin back tonight," Aaron said as Daryl led them through the door. "Oh, thank god you convinced Rick. I hated hearing that you spent the night in jail for saving us." He shook TJ's hand, then turned to Cat. "We didn't really get to talk last night. You seemed a little distracted," he said with a wink.

"Yeah, sorry bout that. Guess I was," she said with a laugh.

"Hey, finally! I was hoping I would get to thank you for saving Aaron!" A tall, lanky young man with dark auburn hair called out as he appeared from another room, limping from the cast on his ankle.

"This is my partner, Eric. Eric, this is TJ and Cat. If it wasn't for them and Morgan, Daryl and I would probably still be in that car." Eric hugged them both, thanking them again.

"I hope we're not putting you out," TJ said. "We can find room somewhere."

"Nonsense, we've got plenty of room. You're staying with us, end of story," Eric said adamantly. "I'll show you where you can put your stuff."

He led them upstairs, giving TJ the first bedroom. At the second door Eric paused. "This is actually the room Daryl's using. Are you two...?" his voice trailing off.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. I hope so," Cat said quietly.

"Yeah, in there," Daryl rasped from behind them as he came up the steps.

Eric winked and gave her a mischievous smile, then disappeared down the stairs.

Daryl opened the door for her and led her in. It was simple, just a full size bed in the middle of the room with a nightstand, a dresser and a door to a small closet. There was a lamp on the nightstand, but other than that the room was bare, staged for the sale that would never come.

"You can have the bed, I'll take the floor," Daryl told her, suddenly feeling awkward.

"Actually, I'm not sure I'm ready to stay here," she told him as she set her pack down next to his. She turned to see the look of hurt on his face and quickly added, "I don't mean here with you, just here as in inside." She crossed the room and took his hands. "Ya gotta understand. I've spent more than a year sleeping in a hammock in trees, surrounded by fresh air, animal noises, the gentle swaying of the hammock in the breeze. All kinds of weather, didn't matter. Last night was awful for me. I don't know if I'll ever really feel comfortable enough to sleep inside again if I can help it."

Daryl nodded in understanding. "I get it. Hard for me too. Most nights I end up crashed on the back porch. We'll see how it plays out. C'mon, let's go back down. Aaron said I wasn't allowed to keep ya to myself," he grumbled. "But there's beer."

Her eyes lit up at that. "Oh, God, I haven't had a beer in years. And TJ's never had one." Her smile grew wider at a realization. "Ya get to have the first drink with your son."

Daryl perked up at that. "A'ight, that makes it better."

"I am bringing my medication down though," she added, going over to her bag. She unzipped a side pocket and grabbed her bag of green. "I've got enough for anyone that wants it."

His eyes went wide at the sight of the bag. "Where'd ya get that much? And since when do ya partake?"

"Found it in some kid's bedroom when we were scavenging on our way north. Been smokin ever since the panic attacks started, at least five years ago. It's not often, just when things get to be too much. And today has been one of those days."

"Whatcha mean?"

"Do ya realize the roller coaster my emotions have been through? In the past 24 hours, I have found ya, lost ya, had a panic attack, watch ya try to beat up your son, got ya back, relived some fucked up shit, discovered you've got a horde of like 25,000 undead in your backyard, and had another panic attack. Ya know ya used to be able to keep me calm, today you've put me through the wringer," she teased, poking him in the ribs with her finger. "But I'd go through it a thousand times if it meant you were in my life again," she added seriously.

He flushed pink at her confession. "C'mon, before they send a search party."

They grabbed TJ and headed back downstairs, where Aaron and Eric were in the kitchen.

"You want a beer?" Aaron asked, getting up from the table as they walked in.

"Yes, please," Cat replied gratefully. He pulled three out of the fridge and passed them out.

"To finding old friends, and gaining new ones," Eric said, raising his bottle in a toast.

"And family," Cat added, looking at TJ. They all clinked bottles and took a swig. Cat and Daryl watched TJ's face as he drank.

"Oh, wow," TJ exclaimed, "I can see why this is so popular."

"Wait, you've never had a beer?" Aaron asked him incredulously.

TJ shook his head. "No, still wasn't old enough when the world collapsed, and I'd promised Mama I'd have my first with her," he said, pointing at Cat. "And bonus that my dad is here too."

Aaron and Eric both started talking at once. "What?! Who's your-" "what do mean dad?" "She's your mom?" "What is happening?" "Somebody better start explaining."

Cat and TJ laughed while Daryl turned about 12 ever darker shades of red. He had always hated being the center of conversation.

"TJ is our son. We were teenagers, and I moved away before Daryl knew. We never reconnected until yesterday," Cat explained quickly.

"Well if this isn't a love story for the ages I don't know what is," Eric quipped. "And we get to witness it." That made everyone laugh, breaking the awkwardness in the room.

"There any chairs or anythin out back? Cat asked, changing the subject. "I been cooped up most of the day and it's makin me antsy."

"Yeah, there's a sitting area on the porch. Come on, let's go." Aaron led them through the back door to the half wrap porch. In one corner was a stand alone swing, two wicker love seats and a matching chair all set in a ring around a small wicker coffee table with a glass top. "Ladies first," Aaron said with a bow.

"Why thank you, kind sir," she said in a terrible British accent, giving him a curtsy, making him laugh. She moved to the swing and sat down on one side. Aaron and Eric took one love seat while TJ took the other. Daryl tried to sit in the chair, but Eric was having none of it.

"Oh no, sir. You are not gonna drop the bomb you did in there and then not even sit next to her. You get over on that swing or so help me." Eric grabbed Daryl's wrist and pulled him back up, giving him a shove toward the swing. Daryl flushed again and sat down with Cat as she giggled.

The five of them sat there, telling stories from before for over an hour, nursing their beers. Cat was feeling a little better, but the hard pit in her stomach just wouldn't ease.

"Sorry if this is too forward, just meetin y'all. Do ya mind if I smoke a lil..." She put two pinched fingers to her lips like she was holding a joint.

Eric's eyes lit up excitedly in the light coming through the window. "You have some?"

"I do, and you're all welcome to it. I just need some help to unwind."

"Yeah, absolutely," Aaron chimed in.

"A'ight then." So she packed a bowl and they passed it around, everyone joining in for a couple rounds until they were all pleasantly stoned. Aaron and Eric were cuddled together on the love seat, giggling like school girls as they whispered to each other. TJ had laid his head back over the seat, staring at the sky as the world spun around him.

With the knot in her stomach finally gone, Cat relaxed, taking her boots off and tucking her feet underneath her, leaning against Daryl's shoulder. She slid her hand into his, interlacing their fingers as waves of calm hit her. Daryl traced lines on her hand with his free one, his feet moving the swing gently back and forth, his head resting on hers.

"Well, we're gonna head in," Aaron announced as he and Eric stood up. "Cat, thank you for that lovely 'dessert', we'll, uh, try not to keep you up," he said with a wink. Eric found that hilarious, his giggles ringing across the yard as they hurried inside.

"I think I'm gonna hit the hay, myself," TJ said, slowly getting up and stretching. Cat and Daryl both stood up as well.

"G'night, kid," Daryl said, giving him a hug. "I'm gonna grab another beer. Ya want one?" he asked Cat, pausing at the door.

"Yes, please, that would be lovely." Once he was inside she turned to TJ. "Doin ok?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Yeah, we got to talk a bit in the kitchen." A grin like the one in that seventh birthday photo spread across his face. "I got my dad."

Cat laughed at that, a truly joyful laugh that echoed in the night. "Yeah, ya do."

He leaned down to her ear and whispered, "You've got him, too." He kissed her forehead and said goodnight to her before he headed in.

She sat back down on the swing and packed one last bowl, smiling to herself at TJ's words.

"Whatcha doin?" Daryl asked, sitting down next to her.

"To go with the beer." She took the cold bottle from him and tucked it between her knees. She took a hit off the pipe and passed it to Daryl. She took a swig of beer, then slowly exhaled the smoke. "Now this is heavenly."

"What, gettin drunk and high?" he asked a little sourly as he passed the pipe back to her.

"Bein with you," she corrected, shaking her head. "Drunk and high is just a bonus."

They finished off the bowl, sitting in companionable silence as they sipped their beers, Cat leaning against him with her head on his shoulder. Once in a while they could hear muffled noises coming from inside, but eventually even that died away. Soon she was struggling to keep her eyes open, her head heavy on her neck.

When he noticed her head bobbing he knew it was time to put her to bed. "C'mon, let's get you upstairs, sleepyhead."

"No, don't wanna. Not ready to be inside yet." Cat shook her head, making herself dizzy.

"Nah, you're goin in. Too cold out here, and all your shit's upstairs. Ain't gonna have ya gettin frostbit," he exaggerated. "Let's go."

He stood and held out his hand, which she took. He pulled her up but she was wobbly on her feet, so he put an arm around her and guided her in. His heart beat in his ears to have his hands on her again. They made their way slowly to his room, where he set her down on the edge of the bed. He closed the door, then moved across the room to open the window. She sat there watching him, amazed that he was even there.

"There, fresh air, a'ight? Sober your ass up a bit," he teased.

She stuck her tongue out at him, then looked down to realize she still had most of her gear on. She reached down and started fumbling with her belt, but she couldn't figure out how to get her fingers to work. He looked over to see her struggling, walked over and knelt down in front of her.

"Here, I got it," he said, his voice a low rumble as he swatted away her hands. She leaned back and he deftly undid her belt and took it off, along with her knife, setting them on the dresser. He took off her boots next, then paused to look at her. He was struck by how she looked at him. There was a hunger in her eyes that hadn't been there before.

"You are _not_ sleeping on the floor. C'mon, up here," she said, laying back across the bed. He still knelt there, unsure of what to do. "Let's go," she urged, patting the space next to her. "Right here."

He stood up and moved around to the other side of the bed. She spun herself around to watch as he kicked off his boots and took off his belt and vest, tossing them aside. He crawled onto the bed and she pulled him to her, pressing her back to him. He laid his arm over her, tucking her into him. He pressed his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of her. It was deeper now, still sweet like honey and citrus, but more mature. It was intoxicating. He needed to see her. He shifted back a bit and rolled her towards him. He reached up and took her chin, turning her face up to his. Her eyes were deep shining pools in the dim lamplight of the room, lips just barely parted. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her hand on his chest. He wanted her even more, the years turning her from a pretty girl into a beautiful goddess that he wanted to worship. The tip of her tongue darted out, wetting her lips, eyes half closed. He brought his lips to hers, all willpower gone. She kissed him back, savoring the taste of him, the hair on his face tickling her chin. She was in heaven, feeling his lips on hers again, when she hadn't even been aware of him being alive just over 24 hours earlier.

He pressed deeper, his tongue teasing hers. A soft moan escaped her, driving him wild with desire. She twined her legs with his, pressing against his muscled frame, her hand on his hip pulling him to her. She felt his cock harden against her belly, stoking her fire, her pussy wet with need. She slipped her hand between them, stroking him through his clothes.

He groaned as her fingers moved over him, her breath heavy on his skin. He rolled on top of her and sat up, kneeling between her legs. "I need to see you," he growled, pulling her shirt out of her waistband. He slid it up over her breasts and off, exposing the rest of her tattoos. On her stomach was a black and grey raven, it's wings spread across her lower ribs, following the curve of her breasts, with intricate scrollwork behind it that ran down her sides. Her arms had full sleeves, a myriad of pieces on each one, all connected through a swirling mist background. He had never given a thought to tattoos on women, but on her it was downright sexy. She reached back and undid the clasp of her bra, and he moved his fingers down her arms, pulling it off. His fingers slowly traced the ink up her sides, following the wings across her ribs to her breasts, full and heavy in his hands, thumbs teasing her nipples to hard points.

She reached out and found the buttons of his shirt, popping them open with ease. She ran her hands up his torso, stopping when she spied the name Hope inked on his chest, looking at him uncertainly.

"You've always had my heart, so I put your name on it." Daryl said it so matter-of-factly, like it was the most natural thing in the world to find her name on him. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him down to her, kissing him before she could start crying. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him into her as her need for him intensified. He broke the kiss and sat up, tearing his shirt off and flinging it to the floor, then pulled her up to kneel in front of him, his lips finding hers. Her warm skin on his urged him on, wanting to devour every inch of her. His hands moved up her back, the patchwork of scars under his fingers making his blood boil, desperate to erase her pain. Her hands moved to his waistband, undoing his button and zipper. She reached in his pants, squeezing his cock as it strained against his boxer-briefs.

He was desperate to be inside her, but he knew instinctively that she needed to decide when. She pushed at his waistband, and he shifted his weight so that she could slip off his pants. Her fingers worked their way in to the waistband of his underwear, fingernails dragging across his hips as she forced them down. His cock sprang free, throbbing with his need. She traced a finger up the underside, making him suck in a sharp breath. His lips found hers, kissing her hard as he pushed her down on the bed, kicking the clothes off his legs. His hands worked at her pants, wanting her naked, to feel her pulsing around his fingers.

Finally he slid her pants off, his fingertips moving up the inside of her legs until they brushed at the wet fabric between her thighs. He pressed in, rubbing her clit, her hips swaying with his motions. He removed her last bit of clothing, leaving her exposed before him. He drank her in, more lovely than he remembered. She moved his hand to her slit, silently begging him for more.

His rough, calloused fingers moved over her, flicking her clit, pushing at her core. She rocked forward and he slid them in, his thumb working her nub. She gasped at his touch, her body swaying, hips grinding against his hand. He kissed his way down her body as he worked her with his hand, until his lips were at her pussy. His tongue darted in, tasting her for the first time. He almost came, she tasted so good. He pressed in, sucking at her clit, her fingers in his hair driving him deeper. Her hips rose off the bed and his free hand cupped her ass, kneading the soft flesh as his fingers moved inside her. Her breathing became ragged and he knew she was close.

"Cum for me," he growled, his breath hot on her pussy. She obliged as he dove back in, her body quaking as the orgasm moved through her. He didn't relent, bringing her over the edge again and again, until she pushed his head away, begging him to stop. She was damp with sweat, her body shaking in the aftermath. He laid down next to her, pulling her over to lay on his side, her leg draped over him. He kissed her softly, and she could taste herself on his lips as his hands meandered across her body, teasing her with his fingertips.

She deepened the kiss, wanting to feel him inside her. She shifted her body and straddled him, opening herself to him. She reached down and grasped his cock, felt it throbbing in her fingers, guiding him to her core. She hovered there, drawing out the moment, his hands at her hips, like a greyhound waiting for the gate to open.

"Yes," She whispered, and he slammed inside her, her wet heat pulsing all around him. He was home, his heart at peace for the first time since he had lost her all those years ago. She moved her hips, riding him slow, building the pressure. He wasn't gonna last, she felt too good. He fingered her clit again, and with a couple of strokes she was cuming. She ground against him, her core squeezing him until he exploded. He came with a groan, shuddering as he spilled his seed deep inside her.

She collapsed in his arms, both of them breathing hard. They laid there, unwilling to move, not wanting to break the spell.

"No one's ever done that before," she whispered, fingers tracing the ink on his chest.

"Done what?"

"Gone down on me. Course you're the only one who hasn't forced themselves on me," she added, a twinge of sadness in her voice.

He turned her face up to look at him. "That'll never happen again. I won't let it." After a pause he added, "The other part, though, will happen quite often," he said wickedly.

She bit her lip at his insinuation, and he kissed her softly, her body relaxing into his. He pulled the sheet over them as she let out a yawn.

"Hey, Dixie?" she mumbled sleepily, her head pillowed on his shoulder and her body draped over his.

"Yeah, Kitten?"

"I missed ya."

"Missed ya more." Soon they were both asleep, the rest of the world forgotten.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_She walked in the back door, knowing she would catch hell and not caring. But the sight that greeted her stopped her in her tracks. Her mother was lying on the kitchen floor, a pool of blood spreading out from beneath her, staining her simple floral dress a ghastly dark red. Her father was towering over her, a bloody knife in his hand and a look of pure rage on his face. The sound of the screen door closing made him snap his head around. When he saw her, she bolted back out the door, tripped on the stairs and fell face first in the dirt. In a few quick steps he caught up with her and snatched her hair up in a vicelike grip._

_"Ya see what you've done?! Lookit what you've made me do, you and your whore mother!" He was shouting as he dragged her back in the house, and the alcohol on his breath hit her like a wall._

_"Mother!" she wailed, tears streaming down her face as she tore herself away and crawled to her, cradling her lifeless head in her lap. He snatched her up by the arm and spun her around to face him._

_"You are gonna clean this up, then you're gonna pack up your stuff. We're leavin." He swung his hand out, backhanding her across the cheek. Her lip split open, dripping fresh blood on her dress. "Get movin! There better not be a drop left when you're done!"_

_She moved robotically, her brain shut down, as she got a bucket of water and a rag to start cleaning. Her father left to the bathroom and returned with the shower curtain. He laid it on the cheap linoleum and rolled her mother onto it. He scooped the body up and stumbled out the front door. She could hear him open the trunk and dump her in unceremoniously. She started crying even harder, and when he came back in and saw her, he grabbed her by the hair._

_"If you don't stop cryin and get this cleaned up I'ma call the cops an tell em what you done," he sneered. "They'll lock you up with all the other murderers where they'll rape you for killin your Mama."_

_After hearing him belittle them both all her life, watching as he beat her mother, telling her it was her fault, getting beaten herself, she believed him. She wanted to run, to find Daryl, he would know what to do, keep her safe, but she just cowered in front of her father, too terrified to move. She had seen too many times what would happen when her mother had tried to escape. He slapped her again and threw her head towards the floor. "Get to cleanin."_

_He moved to the bedrooms, and as she mopped up her mother's blood, she could hear him tearing open drawers, stuffing clothes into whatever bags he could find. At one point she heard him laugh drunkenly, muttering "Stupid little bitch, thought you could hide money from me."_

_He passed by her three times, carrying the bags he had packed to the car. As she dumped the bucket of red water down the sink, he came back carrying the jar of money her Mama had been saving, her run away stash._

_"Let's go, in the car." He shoved her through the door and slammed it behind them. She climbed in the backseat and put her seatbelt on. This wasn't her first trip with him drunk behind the wheel, and she knew it would be another white knuckle ride this night._

_They drove for hours, she would doze off only to be woken when he would jerk the wheel back into his lane. She prayed for a cop to pull him over, but her prayers went unanswered, and she eventually succumbed to sleep just before dawn. When she woke it was 11am and they were pulling into a rest stop. She stretched her cramped muscles and as soon as the engine cut off she reached for the door handle, but before she could open the door he grabbed her wrist, making her bones grind together._

_"Remember, you say one word and you'll be in jail faster than you can blink," he snarled. She nodded her head and he let her go. While she was in the bathroom relieving herself, she wondered if she could just stay in there and he would leave her behind, or trying to get to a pay phone while he was distracted. But she had no one she could call since Daryl didn't have a phone. She hung her head, tears threatening to spill, but she blinked them away and steeled herself. She washed her hands and went back to the car. He tossed her a water bottle and a half eaten pack of donuts as she climbed back in._

_"Here, eat it."_

_The rest of the day was a blur of driving and the occasional rest stop. She slept alot, trying to forget it all, but she couldn't forget one stop. Just after midnight they were driving down a backroad through some never heard of town when he suddenly pulled over and climbed out. She was still half asleep when she heard him open the trunk. Her eyes shot open and she turned around in her seat to see him pulling her mother's body from the trunk, carry it behind the car about 10 yards, then dump it over the side of a bridge._

She woke with a start, gasping for breath as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Hey, hey, it's ok, I'm here." Daryl's soothing voice came floating out of the dark, his arms coming tighter around her. She clung to him as the tendrils of memory slipped away, leaving her weak and hollow. "Bad dream?"

"Bad memory," she whispered. It was still dark, not even the birds were singing. She ran her hand across his chest, feeling the warmth that radiated from the skin under her hand, his heart beating a gentle rhythm. Soon her heart slowed to match his, calming her nerves. It didn't last long though, as the call of nature decided to throw it's two cents in. She made a low groan and buried her head on his chest.

"What?"

"I gotta pee," came the muffled reply.

He chuckled at her annoyance. "So go."

"Don't wanna get dressed," she grumbled.

"Just put my shirt on." He pointed at the floor on her side where he had thrown it. She nodded and slipped out of bed, threw his shirt on and wrapped it around herself, then snuck out of the room.

"My turn," he said when she came back in. He didn't even bother with underwear, just left the room in his birthday suit. Whe he returned she was staring out the window, arms crossed in front of her. With the light from the moon coming in the window, he caught a glimpse of her ass peeking out from under his shirt, stirring his desire. He came up behind her, encircling her with his solid arms. He kissed her neck, the hair on his face tickling her, teasing her.

"Mmm." She bit her lip as his cock rose, pressing against her backside. His hand slipped inside his shirt that she was wearing, cupping her breast. His other hand moved down her belly, teasing the silken hair between her thighs.

Her hands reached behind her, grabbing his hips to steady herself as his fingers moved into her, finding her wet and wanting. He growled in her ear, his need for her intense. He spun her around and lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the bed and laying her down. The sight of her in nothing but his shirt, her body flush with desire was maddening and he climbed on top of her. She spread her legs and he pressed his body to hers, the wet heat of her pussy making his cock throb harder. He held his hips still, teasing them both as he kissed her. A pleading whimper escaped her and she tried to shift her hips, desperate for him.

With a grin he raised up and found her core with his member, pressing the tip in with agonizing slowness.

"Please," she begged, her voice a hoarse whisper.

"Holy fuck, Kitten," he growled as he rammed himself inside her. He held there for a beat, then started to slowly pump his hips, moving in her tight pussy. He took his time, savoring the feel of her, worshipping her body with his hands and mouth and cock. He brought her to orgasm over and over, her body writhing under his touch. When she said could take no more, he chuckled, moving his hips faster. Her hands moved down his sides and over his back, pressing him down on her.

"Cum for me," she begged, locking her legs around him. With a moan he did as she asked, slamming deep inside her. His body shuddered with the orgasm, leaving him spent. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him there, the weight of his body make her feel safe, his head in her neck as he caught his breath.

He finally rolled off, and she snuggled down into the crook of his arm, and they fell asleep, no more dreams haunting her.

She woke first, the morning sun just starting to creep in through the window. Daryl was laying on his stomach, turned slightly away from her, the sheet tangled around his waist.

She studied the scars on his back, long, pink, twisted ropes across his hard back. Smaller white ones crisscrossed underneath, ones she had been able to care for. There were two demonic angel tattoos on his right shoulderblade that weren't there the last time she saw him. She watched him sleep, knowing that if this was a dream she never wanted to wake. Her heart felt like it might burst she was so happy. He stirred, turning his head and peering at her through his lashes. She ran a finger down the largest one, the last one she had fixed for him, and what appeared to be the last one he had gotten. There were new scars on him, but no more like that. Her touch sent a shiver down his spine.

"Sorry I did such a crappy job." She leaned down, pressing her lips to his back.

"Ya did more than I could've ever asked for, Kitten."

She laid her head on his back. "I regret so much. But not trying harder to find ya will haunt me. Ya missed so much. I'm so sorry." A sob escaped her as she continued. "And to think if I had just gotten out of my head, we could've found ya so long ago." She recalled the tracking signs she had seen near the prison. "I actually saw signs of ya at the prison, I just didn't know it was you."

He rolled over and took her in his arms. "Hey, it's a'ight. Honestly it's prob'ly for the best. I wasn't in the best head space back then, hell until Merle was gone I was quite an asshole. Still am sometimes. Who knows how things woulda gone. If you'd been at the prison when that shit went down, things woulda been very different. Who knows if any of us woulda gotten out. Barely made it out with Beth."

His voice trailed off, and she looked to see pain twisting his face. "Who was she?" Cat asked quietly.

"Maggie's little sister. Just a teenager. She's the only one I ever told about ya, when we got drunk at an old Moonshiner's place after the prison fell. Then we burned it down."

"What happened to her?"

"Got taken in a car, I couldn't catch 'em. Was spiralin pretty bad, ran with a bad group for a minute til I came across Rick, Michonne and Carl. Ended up at Terminus. Another disaster. We joined with another group and were headed for DC, when Carol spotted the same car that had taken Beth. We followed it to a hospital in Atlanta and eventually traded her for a couple of their guards we had captured. Beth stabbed the bitch runnin the place, so she shot Beth, and I shot her. Couldn't save Beth though." Tears slipped from his eyes. Cat wiped them away with her thumb, her fingers brushing through his hair.

He turned his head to look at her. "I survived all that. Never scared, just did what I could to keep us alive. Sometimes it wasn't enough. It hurts, all the loss. Almost lost myself on the way from Atlanta to here. If you had been there..." He brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "For the first time in my life, I'm scared. If somethin happened to ya, it'd break me."

"I ain't goin anywhere. I may be broken but I'm alive. You too. We're stronger together, always were. I got your back, always. Nothin's gonna happen to me with you around."

"Ya don't know that. I seen too many ripped apart said the same thing."

"They haven't had to survive like we did. Even TJ hasn't. But I done my best to teach him how we survive, just like ya taught me. It's because of you we're still here." She traced the letters of her middle name inked in his skin with her fingernail. "Ya kept us alive, even from far away. Ain't nothin gettin us now."

Daryl gave a small laugh. "A'ight. I'm convinced, Churchill." He planted a kiss on her lips. He did feel better, though. She still had that effect on him.

"So how'd ya end up over here and not stayin with Rick?"

"There was this stupid party couple nights after we got here. I wasn't goin, and Aaron didn't go cause of Eric's ankle, so he invited me in for dinner. Asked me to be a recruiter with him. That's how I got the bike. Was in his garage, half built. Everybody else was fittin in, but not me. Still don't."

There was a muffled noise from outside their room, followed by a loud thud. "Sunuvabitch," TJ exclaimed from his room.

"Your son is up," she teased.

"My son," he said in amazement. "I have a son. Thank you." He kissed her again, and she slipped her tongue in his mouth, wriggling against him. He moaned in response, his hands running over her ass. "Oh, God, you're killin me."

He tried to get up, but she climbed up and sat on him, pinning his hands down on the bed with her own. "You know, if we stay here we'd be safe," she teased, rubbing her wet pussy on his hardening cock.

"Oh, Kitten," he groaned, unable to say no. He wanted her too bad. She lifted her hips and he slid into her. She rode him hard, grinding against him. He grasped her hips, pressing into her, matching her rhythm. She leaned back, driving him deeper as she reached down, fingering herself as he pumped into her. The sight of her touching herself spurred him on. He had never seen anything so sexy before. She came hard, crying out, the orgasm making her so tight it almost hurt. He roared as he came, raising her up off her knees with the force of his thrust.

She collapsed onto him, giggling breathlessly. "I think we may have just woken the house."

"Shit. Ain't never gonna hear the end of it. You're gonna be the death of me," he teased, kissing her happily.

When they appeared downstairs, Aaron, Eric and TJ were already sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast.

"Mornin baby," she said happily to TJ, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Mornin Mama," he replied, kissing her back. "Sleep well?" he asked, a teasing note in his voice.

"Best sleep I've had in years," she retorted. Daryl flushed red at the insinuations, unused to such banter.

"I see you took good care of her last night. She's practically glowing," TJ teased.

"And this morning," Eric mumbled loudly, and Aaron burst out laughing.

Daryl turned crimson, but took it in stride. "Shut up, kid," he shot back halfheartedly, ruffling TJ's hair. "You too," he said, pointing at Eric.

"Rick stopped by a little bit ago," Aaron said a little more seriously. "Said he's gonna need you with him today, Daryl."

"He can wait." Daryl was still miffed at Rick for pulling his gun on Cat at the quarry. "Hungry, food first." He filled two bowls of oatmeal from the pot on the stove, handing one to Cat and sitting down next to her.

They ate quietly, although every time Cat looked up and caught Eric's eye, they would both start giggling.

After the fourth time Daryl had had enough. "Geez, ya really are tryna kill me," he said in exasperation. "And you're a bad influence," he continued, pointing at Eric. That put them over the edge, and soon they were all laughing, even though Daryl tried to stay serious. Once he finished, he washed his bowl and stuck it in the drainer, then filled a glass of water. He drank half, then set the rest of it on the table for Cat. "I gotta go. TJ, ya wanna come?"

"Yeah, let's go." Daryl bent down and gave her a kiss. "Bye, Kitten."

"Bye, Dixie," she replied, kissing him back. "Watch each other's backs," she called as they headed out.

After breakfast, Aaron explained to Cat what had happened when they arrived. Pete, the man Rick shot, was an abuser who had lost it and killed Reg in an attempt to kill Rick. He had been the doctor for the infirmary, so now there was no one to really take care of things.

"Then I guess I know my place," Cat said with a smile. Aaron looked puzzled at her words. "I was a trauma nurse."

"Well, then, let's get you set up," Aaron said with a grin.

******************************

That evening Rick called a town meeting to explain his plan. Daryl sat in the back, lounging on a bay window seat, Cat nestled between his legs, using his raised knee to lean against, their fingers intertwined. She had quit listening once she heard Rick's plan, turning it over in her head, the arguing and overlapping voices washing over her without notice. It was an intricate plan, she had seen the quarry, and knew that leaving the horde there wasn't the right call, but just leading them away seemed too risky.

Daryl was gonna lead the 'parade' along with Sasha and Abraham, while everyone else worked to keep them contained. Cat had considered joining, but as soon as she had the thought, a feeling of wrongness rose in her gut. Same as before the prison. TJ was gonna go along with Glenn, Heath, and Nicholas to dispatch the undead at the tractor store along the route.

There had to be an easier way, she thought. She could sense there was a solution, all she had to do was find it. But it was trapped, and every string she pulled so far trying to unravel it had been a dead end.

She was uneasy around Rick, he had been the cause of both of her latest panic attacks. Angry men with guns were a huge trigger for her, and he was an angry man with a gun, who happened to not only be in charge, but also Daryl's 'brother' as he called him.

That night, as they lay in bed, after their lovemaking had been much less frenzied, he could see the worry on her face. "What's up, Kitten?"

"Just muddlin. There's gotta be a better option besides containment or Rick's parade."

"We gotta get rid of 'em. Ain't no other way."

"I guess, but I'll stay here. I'll help with prep but I ain't going. Much as I'll hate not bein with ya, my gut's tellin me to stay. Same as when I passed the prison."

He nodded at that. He had hoped that she would join him, he had been hoping to break off on the way home, get some time alone with her. But he knew better than to push against a gut feeling, he was the one who had taught her to listen to it. It had kept her safe this long, he wasn't gonna question it just for a roll in the hay.

"Well, keep thinkin on it. You'll find it. And I'll back ya when ya do."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

**571 tomorrows the big day still dont think its the right descision but i cant come up with anything better theres just too much that could go wrong wish i could just figure this out already**

She sat cross legged on the bed, Daryl asleep beside her, his naked body sprawled across the bed. It had been a week since the meeting, and she was still no closer to an answer. It had been mostly quiet, she and Daryl had fallen into an easy rhythm. With her background as a nurse she was immediately thrown into the infirmary. Between the porch revelation and Eric's gossip, word had quickly spread about Daryl's new little family. Many of those that knew him had stopped by the infirmary with some complaint about something or another, mostly blisters and sore backs from digging. Maggie and Glenn were the first, not even bothering with the pretense of an injury.

_"Hi, I'm Maggie Rhee, this is my husband Glenn," she said, offering her hand with a smile._

_"Cat Mason," she replied, shaking their hands. "So what'd ya hurt?"_

_"Nothin, just wanted to come introduce ourselves, and make sure we're hearing the story right."_

_Cat laughed at her sincerity. "Yeah, TJ is our son."_

_"You don't look old enough," Glenn blurted out. "How old were you?"_

_"Thanks, I'll take that as a compliment," Cat said as Maggie elbowed him in the ribs. "I was only 15 when he was born, Daryl would've been 16. So we were still kids ourselves."_

_"And he didn't know?" Glenn asked._

_"No. Merle's responsible for that. He intercepted the letters I sent over the years. Bastard kept em all, just never told Daryl."_

_"That sounds like Merle. He was a jerk," Maggie said with a nod._

_"What happened to him? Daryl mentioned he was gone, but I haven't had a chance to ask him bout it."_

_"Before the Governor destroyed the prison, we were in a war with him. Merle was with him, but eventually joined us at the prison when he found out Daryl was there. The Governor ended up killing him." Glenn looked uncomfortable as he told her, and Cat knew there was more to the story, but she didn't push._

_"A'ight, thanks." Cat gave a nod, then asked another question, smiling. "So, how much of an asshole was Daryl?"_

Over the week, Gabriel, Carl, Eugene, Tara, Rosita, Michonne and Abraham all stopped by as well, along with quite a few Alexandrians, Abraham even making a few dirty jokes at Daryl's expense.

Abraham so far was her favorite. He was a gentle giant with a rough exterior, funny and charming in his gruff way. He had instantly taken to her, claiming she was his little sister since they looked so much alike, being redheads and all. He had even jokingly threatened to break Daryl if he ever hurt her.

She was startled from her thoughts by a hand on her thigh. "Where were you?" Daryl asked softly.

She shook her head. "Just lost in thought," she replied, peering over her shoulder at him. She was suddenly overcome by desire for him, an urgent need she hadn't felt before. She flung her book aside, leaned down, and kissed him, hard, desperate. He was taken by surprise, her desperation was palpable. He pulled back and looked at her with concern. "Please," she whimpered, tears shining in her eyes. "I need ya."

He gave her everything, taking his time with her, satisfying her every need. When they were finally sated, she curled up against his chest and he held her tightly, wishing he could just stay there with her.

"I gotta go, Kitten," he said eventually.

"I know, I'll see ya when ya get back," she replied, trying to sound more in control than she felt.

"It's just a dry run today. I'll be back before ya know it."

They got dressed in silence, Cat doing her best to keep her composure. When he slung his crossbow over his shoulder it took everything she had to not break down. He took her face in his hands, kissing her gently. She held his arms, desperate for his touch. "I'll be back. I promise. You're my heart." She nodded and he gave her one last lingering kiss, then he was gone.

There was an emptiness when he left and it hurt to breathe, as if he had taken the oxygen with him when he left. Her heart hurt. But there were things to do, so she steeled herself against the pain and got moving.

When she got to the infirmary Denise was already there, sitting on a table with a binder in her lap, reading. "Hey, Doc, how ya doin today?"

"Same as yesterday. You?"

"Not so good today. Anxiety's high. Feelin off." She shook her head. "Aren't we a pair huh? Only two fixers and we both got our wires crossed," Cat said with a wry laugh.

"You're more fixer than me. At least you don't freeze when you're needed most."

"Hey, you'll get there, we both will. We'll just keep shrinkin each other til then." Once she had found out Denise was a doctor, Cat had been working on her all week to get her to the infirmary, and yesterday she had finally succeeded. Cat was a great nurse, but she still needed the backup a doctor could provide. So when Tara and Eugene came in for some aspirin, she let Denise take the lead, while Cat pretended to busy herself organizing supplies.

As Denise started to examine Tara, they heard the pop of gunfire, followed by a loud crash and what sounded like an airhorn. They all ran to the windows, trying to see what was happening, when Aaron and Rosita came running in carrying Holly, Eric following close behind.

"We need the operating table prepped. She's lost a lot of blood. Come on, come on, come on," Rosita exclaimed. Cat and Denise wheeled the gurney over and they set Holly on it.

"How many people are out there?" Tara cried.

"I don't know, there's a lot," Aaron replied.

"Cat, start an IV," Denise said, taking charge. Aaron grabbed a saline bag while Cat started the IV.

"Pressure here," Cat told Eric as Denise taped down the line.

"I have to help, I have to try," Aaron said to Eric.

"I know," Eric responded sadly.

"Denise, I'm gonna have to go, too," Rosita said.

"So do I," Tara insisted.

"You got dizzy swinging a hammer. Somebody's got to guard this place," Denise countered.

"You can handle it-"

"I can't!" Denise cried.

"I also believe my services would be best rendered here," declared Eugene meekly.

"What?!" exclaimed Aaron.

"I also believe my services-"

"Shut up! You're safe here. Come on," Rosita interjected. With that she and Aaron left.

"Keep the pressure on," Cat said, snapping their attention back to Holly. "She needs blood."

"Im O negative," Eric offered. Cat nodded and grabbed the supplies to fill a bag, while Denise hooked her up to the heart monitor just as the horn stopped blaring. Then Denise just stopped, staring at Holly.

"What's happening with her?" Tara asked.

"She's bleeding internally. Probably severed her femoral artery. She's dying," Denise said dejectedly.

"Ok, so the artery's severed. Can it be fixed?"

"Maybe by a surgeon."

"You were gonna be a surgeon," Tara pleaded.

"But I'm not."

"She was protecting this place. She was guarding us. That's why we're here, for each other." Tara paused, and Denise looked away. "You're afraid? I don't care. Help her. Try! Help her!"

After what seemed like an eternity, Denise gathered herself and responded. "I'm gonna need an abdominal binder. We're gonna pull the knife."

"Okay, okay," said Tara.

They worked for the next 30 minutes, trying desperately to staunch the bleeding, Eric giving more blood than he should, trying to replenish what was being lost. But it wasn't enough, and they lost her. By then the trouble outside was done. Cat bandaged up Eric and sent him out so he could find Aaron.

"Just go, please. All of you," Denise said wearily.

"Ok, could you just-" Tara started.

"Good. Go."

"All I was gonna say is, make sure you get her brain." With that Tara and Eugene left.

Cat understood Denise's reaction, but she knew there could be others who would need help, so she grabbed a go bag, stopping to look at Denise across Holly's body. "Take what time ya need." Denise gave a nod, and Cat walked out the door.

She headed back to Aaron's first and grabbed her bow and quiver. She usually didn't carry it when she stayed behind the walls, but after the attack she wasn't taking any chances. She moved through the streets, bag over her shoulder, knife at the ready. So far everyone she came across had already died, so she used her knife to make sure they wouldn't return. She spent the next few hours walking the areas, looking for any survivors, but finding none. When Michonne returned with Heath and Scott, she heard what had happened in the quarry. The rain had saturated the ground, and the semi had given way, releasing the undead, so the plan had turned from dry run to real deal. Everything had been working until the airhorn had pulled the back half of the herd off track and towards Alexandria.

"Where's TJ?"

"He went with Rick to get the RV, try to pull the rest of the herd back on track." Michonne informed her. "Don't worry, they can get it done," she added when she saw the worry on Cat's face.

Cat gave a quick nod, but that wasn't what worried her. She didn't trust Rick. To keep her mind occupied she turned her attention to Scott. "Heath, help me get him to the infirmary. Let's see if we can save at least one person today."

When they got there Denise was still standing over Holly. "I told you to go."

"And I'm here to tell ya get over it, we're here cause Scott needs help. Ya wanna freeze, then freeze, but I'm gonna do what I can to save him. Over here," she said pointing to an exam table. They lifted Scott up on the table and laid him back. "Bite?"

"Gunshot," Heath replied.

"Alright, those are easy. I got this." She moved to Holly's body and took down the blood that had been hung, along with the saline. She wasn't one for wasting supplies. She started an IV and got both bags going, then removed his bandaging and cut open his pant leg to assess the damage. The bleeding had slowed, which meant that he hadn't nicked any arteries. "Looks like a through and through, just soft tissue damage, no bone fragments in the exit wound. As long as you don't have a bleeding disorder and we can keep infection out, I think you'll survive. May favor the leg, but you'll live."

She spent the next hour patching up Scott, while Denise never moved. When Cat finished up, she washed her hands and went over to the doc. "Listen, I get it. It's your first loss. We all have them. You can't fix everyone. And if her femoral was hit, there was nothing we could've done, even if you were a surgeon. We ain't equipped for that shit. So mourn your loss, but don't shut down. I can't do this on my own." She headed for the door, but stopped and turned back. "Please don't let Scott die, and don't let her come back."

With that she headed out. She knew what she had said was harsh, but she knew it was the best way to find out if Denise had what it took to be a doctor. She had given a similar version of that speech to many a first year, and sure if it hadn't helped weed out the ones who weren't going to make it. All the ones that had stuck with it came back to thank her for it, because it made them realize that even though the loss stung, there were still more good they could do. She went straight to the gate to wait for either TJ or Daryl to arrive. She scaled up to the platform, which was unmanned. She shook her head at the oversight, notched an arrow and waited.

About an hour had passed when there was a rattle on the ladder. It was Deanna, and she had the thousand yard stare of someone who'd seen too much. She didn't even notice Cat standing there, just crouched down and stared at a little plaque with her husband's name on it. Cat felt sorry for her. She couldn't imagine what she would do if something ever happened to Daryl.

"Open the gate!"

Cat whipped her head around at the cry, drawing her bow taut. She scanned the road but the trees were blocking her view.

"Open the gate!"

The cry was louder now, and she caught movement at the edge of the trees. It was Rick and TJ going full bore down the road. And coming behind them was the horde.

"OPEN THE GATE!" Rick cried at the top of his lungs.

She scanned in front of them, shooting any undead that could cut them off. One appeared from behind a burned out house just as TJ was about to pass, but Cat was able to take it down before it reached him. Three more in front of them, all down before the two got close.

"OPEN THE GATE!" TJ roared.

Finally the gate rattled open, Michonne and a few others at the ready. Rick and TJ dove through as it clanged shut behind them. Seeing he was safe, she turned her eye back to the horde. The army of undead from the quarry had shuffled their way to the doorstep of Alexandria.

********************

Dark had settled, but Cat still stood on the platform. Daryl, Sasha and Abraham should have been back, and even though the horde would have stopped them getting through, she still kept watch, hoping to at least see a sign that they were out there. A rattle on the ladder was quickly followed by TJ appearing.

"Hey, Mama. Doin alright?"

"Hangin in there." But her voice cracked at the end, betraying her.

"Come here," he said, putting his arms around her. "He's ok. Probably stuck on the other side of them, tryin to figure out how to get through."

She held him tightly as a sob escaped her. "I can't lose him again."

"You won't Mama. I actually think he might be too tough to die."

"That's cause ya haven't seen his soft underbelly yet."

"Oh I have. Pretty sure everyone here has over the last week." She look up at him, but it was impossible to read his face in the dark. "It's you Mama. You're his soft spot. It's like he melts when you walk into the room." Cat gave a wry chuckle as she held onto him, drawing support from his presence.

They stayed that way for a moment, watching the undead sea as it undulated, pressing against the walls like the tide on the beach.

"Come on, you need to sleep. You're not gonna do him any good standing up here asleep on your feet. Besides, I'm your relief for watch. So go eat something and get some sleep. I'll be here for the next four hours, then it's someone else. We aren't giving up."

She nodded and climbed down, then made her way back to Aaron's. The house was quiet when she got in, but Eric was in the kitchen with a small lantern.

"How you holdin up?"

"Not well, apparently," she said with a dry laugh.

"Here, eat. It's terrible but it'll fill your belly. I love Aaron but he's definitely not a chef."

She sat down and forced herself to eat. Eric was right, it was awful, but she did feel better. "Thank you. I'm gonna try to sleep I guess."

"If you need anything just holler, even if it's just some company."

She gave him a small smile as she squeezed his hand, and went upstairs. When she looked in the mirror a stranger peered back. She was covered in dried blood, dirt smeared across one cheek, her hair a halo of tangles around her head. She ran a shower and got cleaned off, then climbed into bed wearing one of his shirts, his scent enveloping her. With Daryl gone it felt cold and empty, and sleep eluded her for a long time. Eventually sheer exhaustion took over, but she was plagued by dreams that she couldn't remember.

The sun was just coming up when Cat woke the next morning. Her sleep had been awful, tossing and turning, waking with no memory of the dreams that haunted her.

She got up and paced the room, wringing her hands as she tried to think. But her mind was going a million miles an hour, thoughts whizzing by too fast to latch onto. There was a knot in her chest, sitting just below her ribcage, and it was twisting and growing. Her eyes darted around the room, but she didn't know what she was even looking for.

The knot grew tighter, making her feel sick to her stomach. Bile rose in her throat, and she ran for the bathroom. Last night's dinner came back up, tasting even worse. But it eased the pain in her chest enough that she could breathe a little easier. She rinsed out her mouth and when she opened the door TJ was standing there with a worried look on his face.

"What's happened?"

"Nothing, just checking on you." She crumpled into his arms, clinging to him like she was drowning. "Come on, Mama, in here." They went back to her room and sat on the rumpled bed. "Talk to me."

"It hurts. How do I deal with this? It's only been a week. Every time we join a group something happens. Ciara, Neesha, Jackson, the Barlow twins. Is it my fault? Did I cause this? How do I make it stop? Maybe I should leave. Bad always seems to go where I go." The words came tumbling out of her. Every thought in her head just poured out as TJ sat listening. He knew it was the anxiety talking and that the best way for her to turn it down was for her to get it out, since medicating wasn't an option with the situation outside the walls.

When she finally stopped, she realized the knot had subsided and she could breathe. The worry was still there but she could think clearly again. TJ kissed the back of her hand, his arm around her shoulders. She looked over and studied his face.

"You look just like him, but with my eyes. Thank god cause if you had had his, you woulda been the most spoiled brat the world had ever seen."

"I don't think Mama P would've let that happen."

"Mama P never saw his eyes," she countered with a smile, but he was right. She was the most loving woman Cat had ever met, but she took no gruff from anyone. "I miss her all the time. She always had a way of making me feel like the world was gonna be ok. No matter what was happening."

"I miss her too. And her key lime pie."

"Now that's just mean, reminding me of that after what I ate last night," she said with a laugh. "Speakin of, I'm starvin. Should probably go eat."

Cat got dressed and they headed to the kitchen, but it was still empty. TJ whipped up some oatmeal while Cat grabbed a glass and filled it with water. She sat down as TJ put two bowls on the table so they could eat. "So what happened out there? I thought you and Rick were gonna lead the rest back with the RV."

"We were attacked by some assholes with W's carved into their foreheads. They shot up the RV and disabled it. Rick and I killed them, but by then the herd was upon us, so we had to make a run for it. Daryl--Dad--geez, both of those sound weird--had actually left Sasha and Abraham to come back here and help, but Rick convinced him that the best way to help was to keep leading the herd away. So he turned and went back."

She nodded thoughtfully as she ate. Rick was right, having the rest of the undead circle back would probably mean the end of everyone in Alexandria. But it still stung a bit that Daryl hadn't come back.

"Well, I gotta get going, need to check on Denise and Scott." She cleaned up her dishes and walked over to TJ. "Thank you, baby. For everything." She kissed him on the head and gave him a squeeze.

"Of course, Mama. Love you."

"Love ya too, baby." She turned and went back upstairs to grab what she needed. She was gonna be armed. She checked her quiver. Only 17 arrows. She was gonna need to be conservative with them until she could make some more, or collect the ones outside the wall. She slipped them on her back along with her bow, set her knife on her hip and was out the door. As she got to the infirmary Tara was just coming out.

"Ya doin alright?" Cat asked her, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm good, just checking in on Denise."

"How is she?"

"Still scared. She thinks Scott's gonna die. But I'm trying to get through to her."

Cat nodded her approval. "Good. I can only get her so far. I think ya might be that connection she needs to get her the rest of the way."

Tara smiled. "Thanks. I'll stop by later." Tara left down the street while Cat headed inside.

When she walked in Denise was on the floor by Scott's bed with a book in her lap. She had a look of deep concentration on her face, so Cat left her be in case she stumbled onto something. She set her things down and checked Scott's vitals. His heart rate and BP were elevated, O² was stable, but he was running a fever, which meant infection. He had been too long without care for her to get the wound cleaned completely.

"Hot damn." Denise came to life, springing up from the floor.

"You got an idea?"

"Yeah. I need a large bore syringe. We're gonna try and relieve some of the pressure, get circulation up, so we can irrigate the wound, flush it out."

"A'ight, let's do this." Cat gathered the supplies while Denise reread the excerpt she had found, then prepped herself for what she was about to do. Cat pulled the gauze away to reveal his wound, swollen and angry looking. Denise inserted the needle into the wound, and drew back gently on the plunger. As Denise pulled pus from the wound, his heart rate spiked, but as the pressure eased so did his heart. Denise smiled, pride in her small victory. Cat knew Tara had a lot to do with it.

"Welcome back, Doc. Now let's get him cleaned. What do we need?"

Cat let her take the lead, even though her years as a trauma nurse meant she knew exactly what needed to be done. Denise needed to see that she could do it as well. They spent the morning working, Cat asking questions to draw the right answers out of Denise when she felt unsure. Cat felt like she was working with a first year resident all over again. Lots of book smarts, lean on practical knowledge, but willing and eager to learn.

By the time they were done, it was past lunchtime, but Scott was back on the mend. Denise was practically dancing as she washed up.

"Go, I'll keep an eye on him, clean up here. Go celebrate. This is a win," Cat told her.

"Ok. Thanks." Denise practically skipped out the door, almost running over TJ on the porch.

"Hi, Denise. Bye, Denise," he called after her retreating form. "Hey, Mama. Brought you some lunch. How's he doin?" TJ asked, pointing at Scott.

"As long as we can keep the infection under control he'll live. Thanks," she added, picking up the sandwich and taking a bite.

"Any news?" "No. Nothin yet."

*********************

That night, after another fruitless watch shift, she crawled into her still empty bed. She laid there, her hand resting where Daryl should have been. The past 22 years without him hadn't hurt as bad as the last 48 hours. She pulled out her journal. For the first time since she started it she hadn't made an entry that morning. She picked up her pencil, ready to write her daily blurb, but when she started she couldn't stop.

**572 daryls still not back the undead are 20 deep how is he gonna get back when he promised he would i lost him 22 years ago i cant lose him again i need to get out go find him maggie tried to leave through the sewer but she said theyre even out to the grate theyre so deep we need to draw them off the walls but we gotta get outside the walls to do it enid only got out cause the undead hadnt gotten here yet noise is the key noise and movement we need something large and loud far enough away that they dont circle back this way give us time to escape or start taking them out set some kinda trap or something**

She paused, there was something there, like an itch she couldn't scratch. She grumbled in frustration. She climbed out of bed and got her pack. She didn't care what was going on around her. Even with TJ's help the anxiety just kept building. She packed a bowl, opened the window and climbed out onto the roof. She sat down with a sigh and put the bowl to her lips. She flicked the lighter, watching the flames dance as she held it to the pipe. She drew a breath and the dried leaves ignited, crackling softly. The smoke hit her lungs, a soothing burn as she inhaled and the THC hit her bloodstream. She blew out slowly, savoring the swoosh in her head. She brought the pipe up to take another hit, lighter poised, flame burning, when the itch was scratched.

"We gotta burn em all. Shoulda burned em in the quarry." Her hands dropped to her lap. She could've prevented all of it, she just hadn't seen the answer in time. But she could still use it to fix the mess. She scrambled back inside and scooped up her journal, scribbling furiously so she wouldn't forget in the morning.

**BURN THEM ALL**

The next morning Cat got up, showered and ate before anyone else was up. She was dreading what she was about to do, but it was necessary. She marched over to Rick's house and knocked on the door. Michonne answered and invited her in. They headed for the kitchen where Judith was in her high chair wearing her breakfast.

"Is Rick around?" Cat asked, steeling herself.

"He's in the shower. What's up?"

"I know how to draw the walkers away. We just need to figure out how to get a few people on the other side of them first."

"That's what we're all trying to figure out. What is it?"

"Fire. They're drawn by noise and movement, right? So a roarin fire, noise, light, movement, it'll suck em right in and take care of the problem by eliminatin themselves."

Michonne's eyes lit up at the suggestion. "I'll be right back." She headed up the stairs, returning moments later with Rick in tow. He wasn't wearing his holster yet, and that set Cat at ease a bit. She and Rick still were uneasy with each other after the quarry, although he had made strides trying to put her worries to rest.

"Michonne says you know how to draw away the walkers."

"I do. I was up most of the night working it out. Only thing I can't figure out is how to get out there."

"Tell me."

"We need to burn em. We shoulda done it at the quarry, but the idea kept slippin away anytime I would get close. Finally hit on it last night. If we can start a fire, I'm talkin the size of that pond out there, but keep it contained, it'll attract the undead. Between the noise and movement, and light if we wait til dark, it'll draw em away from the walls, then they'll be consumed by the fire itself, two birds with one stone."

Rick was stunned by the simplicity of it. She was right, the quarry would've been best, but that option was gone. "Alright, find Eugene. He can help figure out how we make this work. This is good. We can clear a path and then the others can just walk back in. I'll work on getting over the wall once I walk it. I want to make sure there's no weak spots first. No point in the plan if the wall doesn't hold."

As Cat left Rick's house, she felt lighter for the first time since Daryl had left. She headed over to the infirmary first, to check on Scott and let Denise know she wasn't going to be in. Then she headed over towards the front gate to see if Eugene was nearby. On the way there, she spotted him walking dejectedly away from a group being led by Rosita. She was teaching them how to defend themselves, and it was obvious that Eugene was struggling with that.

"Eugene!" she called as she ran to catch up with him. "I need your brain." When she explained what she wanted to do, his eyes lit up. She could see the wheels already turning in his head.

"Come on. We got some logisticals we need to configurate." They spent most of the day in the gazebo, studying maps of the terrain, figuring out a fuel source so the fire would stay lit, and how to best contain the fire. They wanted a controlled burn, not a wildfire. Eugene even had some ideas on how to get a small group of people out. They headed over to the wall that Rick had spent the morning reinforcing, reaching him and Deanna just as Maggie came running up.

"That's Glenn. That's Glenn," Maggie said, breathless and excited. Cat followed their gaze skyward to a bunch of green ballons floating away on the breeze. But then the creaking of wood made them all turn and look as the old clock tower behind the wall they were trying to reinforce collapsed, falling into Alexandria, taking the wall with it.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 09

It was like watching a slow motion movie. The clock tower tipped over, crashing into the wall, dust and chunks of wood spewing up everywhere, filling the air and obscuring the view. The undead came lurching out of it, snarling and snapping. Cat bolted for the platform by the gate that Maggie had just come from, Maggie on her heels. Cat glanced back to see Maggie trip, but before she could run back to help her, Maggie was scrambling to get up, firing well placed shots as she went until her magazine was empty. Cat started up the ladder, and Maggie hit it running just as Cat reached the top. 

"Climb, Maggie!" Cat shouted, turning around and reaching down for her. The undead hit, shifting the ladder and knocking Maggie loose. Cat swiped down, trying to catch her arm, but she swung out of reach. As the ladder started to go down, Maggie leapt up, grabbing a support beam on the platform. Cat snagged her arm, straining to pull her up until Maggie was able to swing her leg over the top. 

She clambered up, and they both collapsed, panting. 

"Are you hurt?" Cat gasped, looking at Maggie's wince of pain.

"I'll survive. We need to get off of here," Maggie replied, struggling to pull her self up. Cat stood, ignoring the searing pain that appeared in her side as the adrenaline subsided, and gave Maggie a hand up. They looked down over the railing, and the reality of their situation hit them in the face. The ground was blanketed in the grey decaying faces of the undead. They swarmed under the platform, reaching for the two of them.

Cat tried to draw a deep breath, and the pain in her side intensified by a thousand. "Aaaah, shit," she gasped as she looked down to see a four inch piece of wood shrapnel had pierced her left side, just in between her armpit and breast. 

"What is it?" Maggie asked, turning to her. 

Cat touched it gingerly, trying to see if she could feel how deep it was. She drew in a slow breath, and almost immediately felt a stabbing pain. The pain blinded her and she cried out. Maggie grabbed her arm to steady her. 

"I need you to look at the wound and tell me if it's bubbling, or foaming," Cat said with a groan. 

Maggie looked closely as Cat drew another agonizing breath. "No, wait, yes underneath, i can see a little foam."

"Damn, I was afraid of that."

"You need to sit, you keep exerting yourself that lung is gonna collapse," Maggie ordered, recognizing what the foam meant.

"Yeah, probably should, but it ain't gonna happen. Right now it's keepin the hole plugged. I didn't see where TJ went. Did you?"

"No. I don't know where anyone went."

They were trapped. They couldn't see anyone from the platform. Cat peered over the other side of the wall. The stream of undead had started to slow to a trickle, most of them had already made their way inside the wall. 

"If one of us could get down the other side we could help. Can you climb?"

Maggie shook her head. "My ankle got stuck on the ladder and got twisted."

"Shit. A'ight, guess we just sit tight for the moment." Cat leaned against the wall, keeping her breathing as steady and even as she could, trying to ignore the pain. The fire would still work, they just needed it to be inside the walls instead of outside. But without fuel, there was no way to keep the fire going. Especially with over 10,000 wet, putrifying bodies roaming around. And without proper containment, the risk of of the fire spreading to the houses was too great. She wished Eugene were up there with her. He had immediately figured out how to get fuel without sacrificing the gasoline from the cars. She hung her head, the guilt washing over her. "This is all my fault. I coulda prevented this."

"How is this your fault?" Maggie asked incredulously. 

"I've been tryin to figure out a different solution to the quarry all week. Finally hit on it this mornin. If I woulda just thought of it sooner, none of this woulda happened."

"No. This is not your fault," Maggie told her sternly. "There's no way you could have known this would happen. No one caused this. And we will get out." Maggie grabbed Cat's arms and turned to her so that they were face to face. "Glenn's alive, so is Daryl. Sasha and Abraham too. They're out there, and they'll think of something."

Cat nodded, hugging Maggie gently. "Thanks. You're right, they will. Daryl promised he'd come back."

"Now sit down, before you force that in deeper," Maggie scolded. Cat acquiesced, sitting down and leaning back against the wall.

Hours dragged on like days as the horde shuffled and lurched aimlessly below them. Cat's breathing got worse, she knew her lung had collapsed. At one point they heard the muffled sound of gunshots, coming from one of the houses, then nothing. Darkness fell, the beauty of the sunset lost on them, and Cat started to get concerned. Her injury wasn't usually fatal, but left untreated it could be. She had no intentions of dying on that platform. But her wound had caused another problem. Her blood had soaked her clothes, dripping onto the wood, and was attracting more of the undead, and the platorm had started shaking as the dead crowded the support beams, forcing Cat to her feet.

They stood there, holding tightly to the rails as the shaking grew worse, watching below them as more undead crowded in. Out of nowhere, gunshots rang from below them, and someone was shouting, calling attention away from the platform and onto himself. Maggie looked over the side, and was at the same time relieved and terrified.

"Glenn! No! Glenn!" She shouted, terror filling her, but he kept going.

"Over here! Over here, come on!" Glenn screamed, trying to draw the walkers away.

"Maggie! Cat!" A girl's voice called from a section of the wall next to the platform. They looked over to see Enid's head appear. She crawled over to them across the plank that covered the gate gears, then they all looked back as Glenn was about to be swarmed.

"Go! Go get over!" He yelled at them, still firing. 

"No!" Maggie growled, taking aim with her pistol, but only a click sounded as the hammer came down on an empty chamber. "Shit!"

Enid threw a make shift rope over the side of the wall, while Cat and Maggie tried drawing the walkers back towards them, banging on the railing, but all they could do was watch as Glenn was surrounded, unable to look away. He disappeared into the herd, but suddenly the undead began to explode as a hail of bullets shredded them. Cat turned to see Sasha and Abraham standing at the top of the gate, raining destruction upon the undead.

"Can you get the gate?!" Abraham yelled to Glenn, who had been spared from the gnawing masses. "Appreciate it, pal." He laughed and they continued firing, clearing a path for Glenn. Cat gave a tearful laugh, excited to hear Abraham's nonchalant banter.

Glenn ran, yanking on the bar that locked the gate in place and pushing it open. As soon as the gate was open a massive fuel truck lumbered through, driven by Daryl. Cat's heart leapt at the sight, tears of joy streaming down her face as Daryl stopped the truck underneath the platform. Abraham and Sasha helped Enid, Maggie and then Cat climb down to the truck, her pain momentarily forgotten at seeing Daryl, all of them crouching down as Daryl drove around and backed up to the pond. Abraham, Sasha and Enid immediately climbed down and joined Glenn, who was standing guard, while Daryl ran to the back of the truck and opened a valve, pouring fuel into the water. 

Maggie gingerly made her way down, but Cat was too winded. She stayed up top, standing on the cab, doing her best to fire arrows at any undead that tried to slip past. Her lungs were on fire, her breathing ragged, but she pushed through, determined to keep him safe. Once the tanker was empty, Daryl called out to the rest, telling them to load up into the truck, while he climbed to the top with Cat, watching behind them as Abraham jumped into the driver's seat and pulled it forward. Daryl pounded on the top of the cab, signaling him to stop when he got the truck about 50 feet away. Cat knelt down and watched as Daryl stood and brought a massive RPG launcher to his shoulder, braced himself, and fired an RPG into the pond. It exploded, igniting the fuel sitting on top of the water. The fire grew immediately, flames reaching twenty feet into the night sky.

Cat watched as the undead turned towards the fire, just as she had said. She laid back, trying to laugh, watching the fire turn the sky orange. She struggled to breathe, and reached down to find that between climbing to the truck and using her bow, the shrapnel had been pushed deeper in, leaving only an inch or two sticking out.

Daryl slung the launcher on his back and turned to see Cat lying on the truck, her side covered in blood, and he knew something was very wrong. Her lips were pale blue in the firelight. "Kitten! Wake up!" He yelled, grabbing her hip as he leaned over her prone form.

Her eyes fluttered open as she gasped for breath. She reached around to her side, trying to grab the shrapnel. 

He watched her try again to grab for something at her side, but she was too weak. He rolled her to see what she was trying to get, panic coursing through him when he saw the chunk of wood. "Oh, shit. Do ya want me to pull it?"

She nodded, so he pinched it with two fingers, pulling it until he could grab hold and then yanked it out, a strangled cry escaping her lips. Blood poured out, easing the pressure on her lung just enough. He gathered her into his arms and looked over the side of the truck.

"ABRAHAM! GRAB HER!" Daryl screamed at Abraham, banging on the truck. Abraham leapt out and caught Cat around her waist as Daryl lowered her down the side of the truck. He leapt down after her and took her from Abraham, pressing her wounded side to his chest as he cradled her in his arms. "Get me to the infirmary! Now!"

The whole group moved into action, slaughtering a path for him, Maggie pushing through the pain when she saw the panic on his face. Cat held on to him as he moved, every step he took was torture, but she didn't care, he was there.

He slammed through the door to find Denise still working to save Carl. She looked over her shoulder to see Cat bleeding from her side. "Oh shit! I need more time!"

"Don't bother with me, keep working on Carl. I can handle this," Cat groaned, struggling to catch her breath. 

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Save the kid, Doc. Put me down, here." He laid her on a nearby bed. "Need gauze," she wheezed, causing her to cough, pain shooting through her entire chest. He grabbed some from the cabinet and pressed it to her side. She put her hand over it and pushed him away. "Now go help them, I ain't gonna die now. They might. Go. Go!"

He scowled at her, but he knew she was right. He kissed her head and ran back out the door.

She watched as Denise worked on Carl, her fears gone for the moment. Cat was in agony, but with the Doc already busy she had to either wait or do something herself. She tried to sit up, but she flopped back down, head swimming. She reached over and grabbed the monitor by the bed and flipped it on, then slipped the pulse ox lead on her finger. 93%. Low but still in the ok range, she knew if it got much lower she was in danger of passing out. She could hear the community outside, coming together to defend themselves, screaming in fury as they attacked the undead. The night dragged on, hours passed, the sounds of the fight outside slowly dwindling, Cat watching as her levels slowly dropped. Dawn was approaching when Denise straightened up.

"Let's get him to the other room, I've done all I can for him." She washed her hands then went over to Cat. "Now what did you do?" Denise glanced at the monitor and saw she was down to 84%. Cat was barely conscious, her lips tinged blue again. She pulled the blood soaked gauze away and saw the puncture wound. It was at least two inches across and ragged. "Geez, you're really putting me to the test." Denise listened to her chest. "Yeah, you've got a collapsed lung, tension pneumothorax, no breath sounds on the left. You're gonna need a chest tube." As Denise hooked her up to the heart monitor and blood pressure, Cat finally passed out. Denise relaxed at that, because now she wouldn't feel the chest tube at least. She cut Cat's shirt and bra out of the way, then studied the wound as she went over the procedure in her head. Just as she was setting up the kit, Daryl came bursting in, Rick on his heels.

"Carl's in there, with Heath," Denise said, pointing to the other room. "Daryl, I need your help."

He came over and saw her passed out, and looked at Denise with panic.

"This is better at the moment," she reassured him. "Means hopefully she won't feel it. Daryl you're gonna need to hold her down, this is gonna hurt if she wakes up, she can't move or I could make things worse, got it?"

"Yeah, hold her still, got it."

"Alright, arm over her head, hold it there, other hand here," she said, indicating Cat's hip.

Daryl put one hand on her hip and the other on her upper arm, holding her down. He looked at her face, lips as blue as her closed eyes, as Denise found the right space, about three inches below her wound, and made the incision. "Keep holding her, this one's going to be worse." She pushed the chest tube in, feeling for placement, but Cat never moved. Once she was satisfied, Denise attached the suction to the end, and opened the clamp. Blood trickled out through the tube. She made a slight adjustment and the flow became steadier, blood and air moving into the tube. She listened to her lungs again as she watched Cat's pulse ox slowly start to climb. "Ok, it's working." She then stitched and taped it all in place.

"Why ain't she wakin up?"

"It's going to take some time, her brain needs to recover from the low oxygen levels. She'll wake up." Next Denise debrided the wound, making sure to pull any splinters from it that she could find. She flushed the wound as best she could and placed more gauze on, taping it on three sides to allow any air to escape.

She checked the drainage, which had slowed again, then listened to her lungs. "Breath sounds are better, but she's going to be here for a while." She covered Cat with a blanket and put her hand on his shoulder, then noticed the blood on the back of his vest. "Lemme take a look at this."

"Nah, I'm fine, fix it later."

"Nope, on the table, now," she ordered, truly embracing her abilities for the first time.

Daryl let out a growl but complied. He hopped up, keeping an eye on Cat in case she woke up. He undid his shirt and pulled his vest and shirt down off his shoulder.

"Just a couple stitches, it's not too deep. Then you can go sit with her," she told him softly.

TJ stopped in, shocked to see Cat in a bed instead of bustling around, unaware that she had been hurt. His heart wrenched to see her, flashbacks of the last time she was in a hospital bed hitting him in the face. He shook his head to clear them, then walked back out, unable to see her like that. Daryl sat for hours, worry growing as she still didn't wake up. Abraham came over and checked on her, kissing her temple and giving Daryl's shoulder a supportive squeeze. Eventually he fell asleep, resting his head on the side of her bed.

When she finally came around her side felt like someone had shoved a hot poker into it. She opened her eyes to see Daryl asleep at her side, then peeked under the blanket to see a chest tube coming out of her. She looked back at him as he stirred, smiling as his eyes came into focus.

"Hey, Dixie," she said, her voice hoarse, her lungs burning.

"Hey, Kitten," he whispered, tears shining in his eyes. She put her hand on his face, brushing away the single tear that fell. He kissed her palm, holding her hand there as if afraid to let go.

"Ya stole my idea, ya know," she told him, trying to laugh.

"Whadya mean?"

"The fire, thought of it yesterday morning. Almost had a plan in place. Then the tower..." she trailed off, breathless.

"Shh, quit talkin already."

Her eyes darted around the room, sudden panic on her face. "Where's TJ? Is he ok?"

He's a'ight. Saw him early this mornin fore ya woke up. I'll go fetch him in a minute." He brushed the hair from her face, unable to wipe the worry from his.

"I'm ok, Dixie, I promise. It's hurts like a bitch, but that just means I'm still alive."

"Hey, you're awake. Thank god you passed out, I don't know how well I would've done with you screaming," Denise commented as she walked over and listened to her breathing, then checked the suction on her chest tube. "Alright, looks like drainage has finally slowed to a trickle, lung sounds like it's working again, as long as output stays low, we'll take that out in the next day or two."

"Hey Doc," Cat said slowly from the pain. "Welcome back."

Denise gave her leg a squeeze and went upstairs to change.

"See, doin better already. I'll be outta here in a couple days. Now go get our son, please."

"A'ight, be back." He kissed her forehead, reluctant to pull away. 

It wasn't long before Daryl returned with TJ in tow. "Hey, there's my guys. Ya ok?" she asked TJ as he sat down in the chair while Daryl hopped up on the end of the bed.

"I'm ok, Mama. I was in the church with Judith before the fire. How are you doin?" 

"Like I told him, I'll be fine. Nothin I can't handle." She put her hand on his cheek, which had grown a few days of patchy stubble. "Now ya really look like your dad," she teased. "But you're ok? Really?"

He kissed her palm, just like Daryl had done. "I'm ok, Mama. Promise. Get some rest. I gotta go back out, can't just sit. So I'll make myself useful until we hear something." He stood up and kissed her cheek. Daryl got down and took his arm.

"Hey, she's gonna be ok, your Ma's made of some pretty tough stuff. Prob'ly outlive us both," he added, giving him a hug.

TJ nodded and headed back outside and Daryl sat down in his place.

"He's scared," Cat observed, her words coming slowly as she struggled to breathe through the pain. "He has a hard time seein me like this. Was in the hospital once for a procedure, and he cried when he saw me. He was terrified he was gonna lose me."

"What was it? The procedure?"

"Had an ovary removed. It was full of painful tumors."

"So ya can't have no more kids?" 

"Technically I can still get pregnant, I still have the other one, but the chances of it happenin are pretty much zero. On top of the tumors I've got Polycystic Ovary Syndrome, so gettin pregnant is already hard, and mine is pretty severe, and I'm down half my eggs. So unless you've got another kid out there, TJ's an only child." She tried to laugh but it came out as a cough.

"Nah, wasn't with no one like that. You kinda ruined other girls," he whispered softly. He was surprised at the disappointment he felt when she told him that. He'd never even given a thought to other kids, and now the possibility was already gone.

"Denise, come here!" Rick yelled from the other room. She came barreling down the stairs into the other room, and Daryl gave Cat a look.

"Go, see," she told him.

Carl was coming around. He would survive as long as there wasn't any complications, but his eye was gone.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

It took two full days for Cat to get out, with Denise being cautious to make sure her output was low. Cat finally had to threaten to rip out the chest tube on the third morning. Denise cut the stitches holding it in place, but paused before she could pull it out, her nerves getting the best of her.

"Denise, pull it out, quick, like rippin off a bandaid. Please. Don't drag this out."

"Ok," Denise sighed, steeling herself. She grasped the tubed and pulled, Cat gritting her teeth and growling through the pain. Denise let out the breath she'd been holding, then moved on, stitching the hole from the chest tube closed.

"Alright, nothing strenuous, keep it dry until tomorrow, change your dressings at least twice a day, rest with it above your head." Denise racked her brain to remember the rest.

"I got it Doc," Cat laughed. "I'll do my breathing exercises, too."

"Oh, yeah, those too. Remember, NOTHING strenuous for at least two weeks," Denise emphasized. "Anything more than a leisurely stroll is out. You don't want to rip those stitches out."

"But what if he does all the work?" Cat countered with a wink and a smile.

"If the rumors are to be believed I don't know if you could stick to that," Denise shot back.

"Yeah, you're right, I couldn't," Cat chuckled, making her grab her side. "Ow."

"See, nothing. Now go so I can get this bed back," Denise chided as Daryl arrived.

The walk back to Aaron's house was slow going, even though it was practically across the street, holding her side with her right hand and holding Daryl's arm with the left. A lot of progress had been made in the streets, though. TJ had taken the lead and formed a crew to get rid of the bodies and start the cleanup. They had started a bonfire outside the walls where they burned the undead that didn't make it into the pond, while others worked on the debris from the clock tower.

Daryl had been busy too. With Rick not willing to leave Carl's side, a lot of things fell to Daryl, especially since he had become a sort of town hero. Cat hadn't been able to talk with him without being interrupted the entire time she was in the infirmary. Even as he walked with her, three people called out to him with greetings and thanks as they walked by. She could see how uncomfortable it made him, and squeezed his arm to let him know she understood. When they got to the house, Cat had to rest at the bottom of the stairs. Just the walk over had done her in.

"Want me to carry ya?"

"No, I'm not that bad. Just need a minute." She leaned against him, as much for support as to just feel him there next to her.

Aaron and Eric were there waiting when they finally came in. "Welcome back," Aaron said happily.

"We missed you," Eric added. They each gave her a hug, then Eric asked, "Did you wanna sit outside for a bit? Or were you just gonna head upstairs?"

"Ya know what, I would love to sit outside. Been cooped up inside for two days. I need a break from the walls."

Daryl led her outside and got her settled on the swing while Eric brought out water for her. A knock on the door interrupted them. Aaron went to answer, and when he came back he looked apologetic. "Daryl, they need you down at the fire."

"Tell em I'm busy."

"I did, but Tobin's insisting. I'm sorry."

"A'ight, tell em I'm on my way." Daryl looked down at her. "Sorry, Kitten, I gotta go." He leaned down and kissed her, long and slow. "Be back shortly."

"Bye, Dixie," she said quietly. He headed back out, grumbling as he went. Cat spent the afternoon sitting on the swing, listening to all the goings on around her. The fresh air felt good in her lungs, but her stitches were killing her, and there was still a massive hole in her side. An ugly bruise ran from her armpit to her hip. She was still wearing Daryl's shirt that he had given her so she could at least be decent when she got up to pee, and she had been in the same bloodstained pants and underwear for at least three days.

Daryl didn't come back until almost dark. He was cranky, tired, and covered in soot and blood.

"She said for you to wake her when you got home," Eric said when Daryl spotted her asleep on the swing.

"A'ight. Thanks." He went out on the porch and knelt down in front of her. Just seeing her so peaceful calmed him down. "Hey, Kitten," he said, stroking her cheek. "I'm back."

When she opened her eyes and saw him, her eyes grew wide with panic. "What happened? Are ya ok?" She sat up too fast, wincing as her stitches pulled.

"I'm a'ight. Just some dumbasses don't know how to do a fire right."

"Well, I was gonna have ya help me get washed. Now ya need a shower even more than I do," she said, taking him in. "What happened?"

"All they had to do was put in a couple at a time. Instead, they dumped a whole bunch on and almost killed it. Then they got it goin again only to turn it into a ragin inferno. Been out there tryna keep it from catchin the trees on fire all night."

"Hopefully tomorrow Rick"ll start to pick up the slack. Carl's doin well, even got up to come tell me bye this mornin. Should be home in a couple days himself." She held out her hand to him. "Help me up?"

He took her hand so that she could pull herself up. "Where to?"

"The kitchen, I'm starvin. Gonna go all out and have some broth."

"All out, huh? Livin high off the hog, sounds like," he joked back. They made their way to the kitchen so she could eat. Aaron and Eric were at the table playing a card game. She paused at the counter to take a couple breaths.

"Will you sit down, please?" begged Aaron. "Geez, it's like you want to go back across the street." He pulled out a chair for her to sit. "Now are you hungry? Theres leftover beans and veggies in the fridge."

She shook her head. "Thanks, but just some broth for now. I get queasy from the pain, so nothin heavier yet." She turned to Daryl, pointing a finger at him. "You go shower. I ain't kissin ya like that."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, sounding like a put out teenager who's been told to do his chores. While he showered, she sat drinking some broth, watching Aaron and Eric play their own version of Gin Rummy. She could feel the warmth of the broth seeping into her, making her sleepy. By the time Daryl made it back downstairs, she could barely keep her eyes open. "You ready?"

"Yes, please. Goodnight you two."

Aaron and Eric bid her goodnight as she slowly made her way up the stairs, Daryl at her side. He led her to the bathroom where he had already gotten everything ready. He sat her down on the side of the tub and proceeded to undress her, his movements careful so as not to jostle her.

He started the shower and washed her hair first, using the detachable shower head to rinse as she leaned back against his arm. He gave her a towel to wrap up her hair, then used a washcloth to give her a sponge bath. He worked in sections, his hands gentle as they moved over her body. She sucked in her breath through her teeth when he pulled the gauze off her puncture wound and it stuck, but he swabbed it with some water, gently pulling the old bandage off so he could clean it.

Once he got her top half clean, she stood up, bracing herself on his shoulders as he washed her lower half. He was careful with his touch, trying to avoid arousing her with his movements. But when he got between her legs, she couldn't help it, just the thought of him there got her going, and she sucked in a quick breath when he touched her. Her hips rocked forward, unbidden, as her fingers dug into his shoulders. He bit his lip, desperate to keep in control, the sweet scent of her beckoning him. He quickly finished up, then dried her off with the lightest touch, as if she would shatter if he pressed too hard.

Daryl changed the bandage on her stitches and recovered her puncture wound. He helped her get clean clothes on, using another one of his shirts so she wouldn't have to raise her left arm up too far. She smiled at how thoughtful he had been, keeping his needs in check even when tempted. He led her to the bed, but she didn't sit down. Instead she wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on his shoulder. He put his arms around her shoulders, holding her tightly. He had almost lost her again, and that terrified him. They held each other, relishing the embrace, something they hadn't done since he had left on the dry run days earlier.

His scent was a heady mix of leather and woods and musk, stirring her desire even through her pain. Cat kissed his neck, her lips just skimming across his skin. She made her way up, feeling his pulse quicken when she tugged on his earlobe. He pulled his head back and cradled her face in his hands, taking in the sight of her. His lips brushed against hers, their breaths mingling between them. He pressed closer, a slow, sensual kiss full of desire and longing. She moaned faintly, his touch like fire on her skin. He broke away, leaning his forehead on hers, his breath coming in gasps as he tried to restrain himself. "Oh god how I want ya, Kitten," he sighed, unable to look at her.

"Then take me," she whispered, her voice husky with longing. "Please, Dixie," she begged, on the verge of tears.

Her plea broke him. He kissed her again, moving her towards the bed, tenderly laying her down across it. He hovered over her, his tongue exploring her mouth as she undid the buttons of his shirt. She ran her hands down his body, her nails tracing lines of electricity across his skin. She undid the waist of his pants and slid her hands inside, taking hold of him, giving him a couple slow strokes. Feeling him throb in her hands made her wet with yearning. He groaned in her mouth, then sat up and straddled her. He took his shirt off, then his hands moved to open hers, quickly undoing the buttons. His calloused hands ran over her smooth tattooed skin to her breasts, cupping them as he pinched her nipples. They peaked at his touch, making her arch her back in pleasure. He worked his way lower to her waistband and opened her pants, shifting them low on her hips. He ran his fingers through the soft downy hair between her legs, finding her hot and wet. He circled her clit, teasing her until she writhed under him.

He took his hand away, making her whimper, and stood up at the side of the bed. He removed her pants and underwear, leaving her in nothing but his shirt. He looked at her with hunger in his eyes as she slipped a finger down, rubbing her clit as she bit her lip. He stripped out of the rest of his clothes and crawled onto the bed, picking her knees up on his forearms, spreading her wide. She kept going, working herself to the edge as he shifted his hips, cock poised at her entrance. With a thrust he buried himself inside her, and she let out a small cry of pleasure. He moved in her, as she rubbed her clit, spurring him on. Her breathing became ragged as she neared climax, the pain in her side mingling with the pleasure between her legs, her finger going faster as he thrust deep inside her, until stars exploded behind her eyes, her core clenching around him over and over again. The orgasm came in waves, driving him into oblivion. He convulsed as he came, leaning forward to bury himself in her wet warmth.

With a soft groan he rolled off of her and laid down on the bed to her left to catch his breath. He looked over and saw that a red bloom had appeared on both of the gauze pads on her side, and was instantly angry at himself for hurting her.

He got up and grabbed her first aid kit out of her bag, then made his way to the side of the bed. She watched his sudden movements with worry.

"What's wrong?" He paused and looked at her, tears stinging his eyes. "Hey, Dixie."

"I'm sorry, Kitten," he whispered as a tear slid down his cheek.

She laid her hand on his, stopping him. "Dixie." He reluctantly brought his eyes to hers. "I'm ok. It doesn't hurt that much." He nodded, but couldn't stop from chewing his lip. "Ya do realize I was a _very_ willin participant, don't ya?"

He grinned at that. "Ya did feel willin."

"Exactly. So don't beat yourself up. Besides, it's just a little blood and Doc is terrible at stitches. Rather you had done it anyway. Just couldn't tell her."

"So ya tellin me ya did this on purpose?"

She shrugged. "Or I just didn't care if it did. Besides, it was worth it," she added huskily.

"A'ight. But no more til ya healed up. I ain't doin this every time."

She gave a groan and pouted, but she knew he was right. "Ok. You're right. I'll try to behave." He gave her a low laugh, then knelt in front of her as she laid on her side so he could patch her up.

His deft fingers made quick work of her wounds, cleaning off the blood and restitching her, only making her wince once when he tied the last knot. He cleaned up and climbed into bed with her. He tucked her into him, kissing her neck and laying his arm over her. She turned her head to look up at him, her face becoming serious.

"I love you, Dixie." She had never said it to him before. Her heart fluttered in her chest, a weight lifted off.

He had known it, but to hear her say it made his heart swell. "Love ya more, Kitten. Always have. Always will." Their lips met, a soft, gentle kiss full of love. Tears rolled down her cheeks, her heart about to burst. She fell asleep in his arms, their fingers intertwined.

It was still night when she woke up. Daryl was on his back, his face relaxed, mouth slightly open. She gingerly got up, not wanting to wake him. She grabbed her underwear and buttoned his shirt back up. She snuck out of the room and went to the bathroom, then went downstairs to the kitchen. She was starving. When she checked the fridge she saw that Aaron had saved a plate for her and one for Daryl as well.

She said a silent thanks to Aaron and pulled it out. The pain had receded to a dull roar, so she was willing to risk some real food. She used the microwave, making sure to stop it before the timer went off. She leaned against the counter and started eating the bean and veggie casserole that Eric had whipped up. It tasted like heaven in her mouth, so she didn't even notice when he came down the stairs, dressed in just a pair of jeans. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed as he watched her eat.

"So that's where ya went," he said, startling her.

"Geez, Dixie, give me a warnin shuffle or somethin next time, wouldya?" she mumbled through a mouthful of food.

He gave her a devilish grin. "Then I wouldn't get to see that beautiful sight."

She blushed, then pointed at the fridge, changing the subject. "There's one in there for you too."

He pulled his plate from the fridge and put it in the microwave. While it was heating, he poured a glass of water. He drank his half, then set it down on the counter behind her. He grabbed his plate and stood next to her, and they ate in companionable silence.

When they were done he took their dishes to the sink. She watched him as he washed, the muscles on his back making his demonic angels dance. She walked over to stand behind him, wrapping her arms around him, and laid her head on his back. When he finished he dried his hands, then spun around and held her, planting a kiss on her forehead.

"C'mon, let's grab some more sleep. The faster ya get better the faster we can do more than sleep."

*******************************

Daryl was already up and dressed when she woke up. "Mornin, Kitten."

"Mornin, Dixie. Where you off to?"

"Gonna swing by the infirmary, check on Carl. Try and convince Rick to get back to leadin. Just ain't my thing. TJ, on the other hand. That boy ain't stopped yet. He's bout got that tower half cleared out already, and the walkers are gone. He was already up and gone when I got up. Whatcha gonna do today?"

"Gonna try to walk. Just walk, get my breathin exercises in."

"Don't push too hard. I'mma be pissed you end up back in the infirmary overnight again. Don't like sleepin without ya." He leaned over her and kissed her goodbye. "Love ya, Kitten."

"Love ya more, Dixie." He was gone out the door in a flash, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She pulled out her journal and added the first entry in days.

**576 been rough lately, got banged up pretty good carl took a bullet to the eye lost a lot of people deanna jessie and both her boys natalie holly so many others 31 people i think was the final total dixies back though and tjs safe thats all that matters to me**

Aaron and Eric were both gone by the time she came down, leaving the house quiet. Although she did live there, she still considered it Aaron and Eric's house, so she felt odd being all alone in it. She grabbed some toast, slathered it with grape jelly and headed out the door. She took her time, moving slowly down the street as she munched on her breakfast. Her ribs ached from wrestling to get her only bra on, so she was once again in one of Daryl's sleeveless numbers. The weather was finally warm, summer was just around the corner.

She headed up to where the tower had fallen, hoping to see her absentee son. She worked on fully expanding her lungs, making her ribs scream in agony. She finished eating just as she arrived at the solar panels.

She spotted TJ right away, moving swiftly along as the crew removed the debris. They worked hard, and she could see that everyone there respected him. She kept moving, not wanting him to stop just for her, but he spotted her and ran to catch up with her.

"Mama," he called when he got close.

"Mornin, baby," she said when she turned around. He leaned forward so she could kiss his cheek.

"Where's Pop?"

"Went to try and get Rick back to leadin, then who knows what. He's become quite the local celebrity."

"And he hates it," TJ added with a laugh.

"Pop, huh?" Cat asked with a grin.

"Yeah, Dad and Daryl just felt wrong somehow. Where you off to?"

"I'm just on my own til Doc clears me. So I'm workin on gettin cleared. May stop in to see her, see if I can convince her to at least let me sort stuff, do somethin to feel productive."

"Hey, TJ!" Came a shout from behind them. He turned around and held up a finger, then turned back to her.

"Go, baby. They need ya. I'm just takin a stroll." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and he was off. She circled around the pond, shuffling along like she was 80, spotting Maggie in the garden.

"Denise finally let you out?" Maggie teased as Cat got near.

"Told her if she didn't I was rippin it out. How's the ankle?"

"Sore, just a strain, though. Just gotta be easy on it for a few days," Maggie replied as she dug.

"And how's the baby?" Cat asked softly.

Maggie froze, looking up at Cat in surprise. "Did Aaron tell you?"

Cat smiled and shook her head. "Nah, was watchin ya on the platform. Always protectin your belly, like there was somethin important in there. Don't worry, won't say nothin til you're ready, not even to Daryl. How far along are ya?"

Maggie relaxed as she heard Cat's explanation. "Six, eight weeks at most. Glenn and I just found out."

Cat threw her arms around Maggie. "Congratulations, I'm so happy for ya. We need some new life here."

Next she made her way over to the infirmary, where she found Denise in her typical position, sitting on the floor with a book in her lap. "Mornin, Doc."

"Cat, what's up, something wrong? You rip them stitches already?" Denise asked scoldingly.

"Technically I did, but Daryl got me back together again."

Denise gave her a look that said 'Seriously?', then pointed to the exam table. "Let me see."

"I swear it's fine. And Daryl promises to behave from now on until ya clear me. See?" Cat unbuttoned her shirt and let Denise lift her bra up.

"Wow, that's almost pretty. I may have to recruit him."

"Who do you think taught him?" Cat replied with a wink.

"Still, I said nothing strenuous."

"I know, but I couldn't help it. That man drives me wild. I swear I feel like a damn teenager when he's around."

"Well exert some willpower. And when I do clear you, you're the official stitcher."

"Deal. How's Carl?" Cat asked, changing the subject.

"Doing good, the wound is healing clean. I'd say tomorrow, day after at the latest, he can leave. Go say hi."

Cat buttoned her shirt up and gingerly slid down off the table, then headed into the adjoining room. She knocked on the doorframe, and Carl gave a smile whe he looked up to see her.

"Hey, Auntie Cat. How you doing?"

"On the mend. Sounds like you are, too. Goin stir crazy yet?"

"Yes, my dad freaks anytime I move. But Denise said I could get up and walk outside today. Want to join me?"

"A walkin companion would be great," she replied. Carl climbed out of bed, still a little unsteady on his feet. "Denise says it's because I lost my depth perception. Makes me dizzy."

"Yeah, you'll adjust though. So, did Daryl actually convince your dad to leave today?"

"More like dragged him out of here. Told him if he didn't then you were gonna kick his ass."

Cat rolled her eyes as they walked out the door. "That's cause of yesterday. Soon as I got settled he got pulled away til nightfall. He was pissed." Carl paused as he adjusted to the sunlight, then they continued off the porch. "Has Enid come by to see ya?"

Carl flushed at the mention of her. "Yeah, I was kinda scared she'd hate me now, but she doesn't care."

"Anybody who hates ya over a scar ain't worth your time. Daryl don't hate me for mine, I don't hate him for his. Scars tell your story. Find someone who likes ya for your stories. Sounds like she does."

Carl liked Cat. They had bonded the last couple days, she was like the cool Aunt every kid wanted, easy to talk to, wouldn't give you any bullshit, and would call you out if you gave her any. He could see why Daryl loved her.

"Listen, do me a favor though. Stop standing at the business end of a gun. Ya don't seem to do too well on that end," she teased, poking his ribs where his scar was. When he gave her a questioning look, she chuckled. "Daryl told me."

"Deal. And you stop ripping those stitches out," he teased back, making her laugh.

"Ow. I will if ya quit makin me laugh," she said as she grabbed her side. As they made their way around the entire loop of the pond, he asked her a question she didn't expect.

"How come you and my dad don't get along? He and Daryl are brothers, and you're with Daryl. I figured you guys would love each other."

"Hmm. It's more complicated than that. I've got a pretty bad history with angry men pointing guns, and now seeing them can give me a panic attack. The first time I saw your dad I watched him pull out his gun and shoot a man in the face. The very next day he pulled his gun on me over a misunderstanding. So it's not that I don't like him, it's just that it's gonna take me a while to be able to trust him."

Carl nodded at that. The new world had made him wise beyond his years. "But Daryl carries a gun. You trust him."

"That's cause I knew Daryl when we were younger than you. No matter what he feels about me, I know he'd never hurt me."

"But isn't that dangerous, panicking every time someone pulls a gun? You can't fight back if that happens."

"I have no control over it. It's like a gun. When you pull the trigger the gun goes off, it's just what happens. It's the same for me. Seeing certain things, it's like that trigger's been squeezed, and that's my reaction. I'm trying to learn how to keep the trigger from being squeezed."

"I get it now." They had made their way back to the infirmary, so she bid farewell to Carl. She was glad he was on the mend, she just had to focus on getting herself healed, too.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its taken so long to post, life has gotten crazy exciting. But here we go!

Chapter 11

**590 oh my god i think im gonna die this has been the longest 2 weeks wish doc would just clear me already i swear shes just messin with me now**

Just as he had promised, Daryl had behaved, much to Cat's chagrin. Her stitches had been healing well, her puncture wound was healing without sign of infection, and the bruising had all but disappeared. She still couldn't draw her bow, however, and that worried her. Daryl had lost his crossbow, and now she couldn't shoot either. 

The only good parts about their forced celibacy had been the talking, and that she had started teaching him sign language. Rick was finally shouldering the responsibility of running things, leaving Daryl free to spend more time with her. They quickly fell into a quiet routine. 

They would go their separate ways in the morning. Cat would go to the infirmary with Denise and as long as there were no patients coming they would study. Scott had just about recovered, so Denise had started to teach her things like diagnosing, and Cat taught her practical stuff never found in a book. Denise was still terrible at stitches, but she kept at it. Daryl joined TJ, working to clear the tower, or out on patrol with Rick clearing walkers.

In the afternoon, Daryl would join her as she took her walk and did her breathing exercises, then she went back to work hitting the books and he rejoined TJ working on the tower. By the time he was done for the day he was always covered in dirt and sweat, with blood mixed in on patrol days.

At day three she brought her bow with her on her walk, wanting to see how far she could draw. She had barely brought her arm up when searing pain shot through her shoulder, bringing her to her knees, tears stinging her eyes. She didn't give up though. Every morning after that she had Daryl help her stretch, giving herself some physical therapy.

In the evenings they would sit down at the table with Aaron and Eric, everyone telling about their day. TJ eventually joined them after Cat had overheard Daryl scolding him one morning.

"Why ain't ya comin home til late? Ya pissed or somethin?"

"No, just got a lot to get done."

"Well ya can't do it all in one day, or by yourself. 'Sides, ya ain't seen your Ma in days. Just cause I'm around don't mean she don't need ya. Same goes for me."

TJ hung his head and sighed. "You're right, Pop. I'm sorry. Just didn't want to screw up the good thing you got going."

"That good thing is what made ya in the first place. Ya can't screw it up." 

That night and every night after he would be there for dinner. And he seemed to relax more after that as well, giving himself a chance to unwind.

After dinner they would all sit on the back porch, continuing their conversations from dinner. Cat and Daryl sat in the swing, her sitting sideways between in his lap, curled into his arm, their fingers interlaced.

"So how come you two always sit like that?" Eric asked one night as they lounged outside.

"Cause he hated it," Cat laughed. "It was probably a year after we had met, I was maybe seven, and I think I had tripped and ended up falling and sitting on him. He got all mad, so I started doing it all the time. Would just walk up and sit in his lap. Eventually he went from hatin it to expectin it to gettin mad if I didn't. That's how the nicknames started, too. I was cryin bout somethin and he told me that cats dont cry, only kittens do, so I must be a kitten. I belive my exact response was 'Shut up, Dixie!' Well that just set him off, so I ran with it, callin him that anytime he was a brat to me, so then he would call me Kitten. Then it felt odd if we didn't call each other that."

"I swear you two are so cute it's downright gross sometimes," Eric teased, making Daryl turn red. 

"Says half the adorable snuggly couple over there," she retorted.

Cat and Daryl were usually the last two to go up at night. She would sign as she talked, moving slowly so that he could connect the signs with the words. She had already heard an abbreviated version of how he lost his crossbow and bike from Abraham. But she teased the story out of him that first evening alone, knowing there was more to it.

"We were on our way back when we got ambushed. Ended up dumpin the bike and tearin up my elbow, but got back up and lost em in the woods. Kept goin as long as I could, crashin in a burned out section of woods. Got taken by this guy Dwight, with his wife Sherry and her sister Tina. They were runnin from someone, thought I worked for em. Dragged me to a fuel depot where Tina collapsed, givin me a chance to get away, takin their bag with me. Found a cooler of insulin in that bag." He chewed his lip, remembering.

 _"Ya went back, didn't ya?"_ He nodded, powerless to speak. _"And that right there is why I love ya. Cause your heart is good. Ya risked goin back to save her."_ She turned his face to her. _"Don't ever lose that."_

"Didn't matter anyway. Started leadin em back n we get trapped by the people who're actually after them, so I help em escape, get one of the guys bit so they'll leave. On the way back to my bike we came across this greenhouse where the glass had melted, killin two people. Turns out they knew em. Tina kneels down and breaks the glass, then gets bit cause the people in the glass turned. 

Was gonna bring em back here, but when I mentioned meetin up with Sasha and Abraham, they panicked and held me at gunpoint, takin my crossbow and my bike, left me stranded. That's how I found the fuel truck they were lookin for. Figured since they took my shit, I'd take theirs." Daryl shook his head. "Did I do the right thing? Lettin em go like that?"

 _"If you'd killed em, would ya found that fuel truck and saved us?"_ Cat shrugged, her head on his shoulder. _"Can't go back and change it."_

He hadn't thought of it like that. Finding that fuel truck had allowed him to eliminate the walkers inside the walls, saving Cat. Thinking what might have happened without that truck eased his mind about letting Dwight and Sherry go.

Sometimes he would talk, telling her of the things that he had been through. Telling her about losing Merle had been the hardest one, made all the more complicated by what he knew. 

"All those times he talked about family stickin together, all the shitty things he'd done, only once he ever mentioned you. Was the last time I talked to him. We were at the prison, Rick was considerin tradin Michonne to the Governor to keep the rest safe, and had recruited Merle to help. He was givin me hell for listenin to Rick, asked if my balls were still attached, or if I'd given em to you all those years ago. Thought he was just tryna rile me up. Maybe was his way of askin if TJ was mine."

Cat sat in his lap, listening as he talked, fingers playing on the back of his hand. Her heart broke knowing that the one time he really needed her she hadn't been there for him. He cried when he told her how he had found Merle, how Merle had gone after the Governor to try and save everyone, but the Governor killed him, letting him turn. Daryl had struggled putting him down, unable to process losing him.

She put her arms around his neck, pulling him into her as he relived that moment, sobbing like a child. 

Cat told him about the last group they had joined, and how it had ended in gunshots and fire, making her avoid groups after that. She told him the things she couldn't tell TJ about that night, about the multiple rapes she suffered. How, when she thought she was about to die, she had thought of him, and it had saved her life.

_She felt the muzzle pressed to her temple and Daryl's face flashed through her mind. 'If I die now at least my last thought is of him.' She smiled then, making him pause._

__

__

"Something funny?" He asked, licking his lips.

_"Just the fact that ya think ya could do anything with that tiny thing ya call a dick." His eyes grew wide at her insult, his hand momentarily going slack, giving her a window. She brought her knee up, crushing his balls so hard she felt one pop. He tilted to the side in agony, and she snatched the gun from his hand. She swung it hard, hitting him in the face and knocking him to the ground. She sat up and aimed at his face as he writhed on the ground, squeezing the trigger. His head exploded in front of her and she flopped onto her back, tears streaming down her face._

Daryl held his anger in check as she talked, his hand moving slowly over her back. Her voice was cold, emotionless, which angered him more than anything else. He hated hearing her like that, so unlike her usual self.

He tilted her face up to look at him. "Never again. I promise." He brought his lips to hers, gently kissing her.

Once they were in bed it was harder. They had tried to still sleep naked, but the temptation was too much, so he kept his underwear on, while Cat slept in one of his shirts. They got a little frisky one night, when their time on the porch was spent making out instead of talking. He woke up later that night feeling horny and frustrated, so he decided to rub one out while she slept. His movements woke her up, though, and he stopped, apologizing profusely.

"Don't stop. I wanna watch." He gave her a funny look, but she put his hand back on his cock. "I wanna watch," she insisted. His awkwardness quickly melted away as he saw her response, however. Her eyes were hungry, she licked her lips, small moans escaping her. When he was close she reached over and cupped his balls, sqeezing them gently in her fingers as he stroked himself. He came hard, his milky cum dripping over their hands. When he tried to wipe her hand off, she just licked the salty fluid off, savoring the taste of him.

Cat had gone two weeks, but she had reached her limit. Doc was gonna clear her.

There were no patients that morning so Cat had Denise take a look.

"You are healing remarkably fast, I have to admit," Denise said. Her puncture wound was gnarly looking, but free from infection. "I think you're ready to have these stitches out." Denise got some scissors and tweezers and started to snip. "Any pain?" 

"Drawing my bow hurts now, but Daryl's been helping me stretch in the morning. The pain is less, but I can't get a full draw."

"Show me," Denise told her as she pulled the last stitch.

Cat hopped down, grabbed her bow and pulled, drawing the string. "I was here a couple days ago," standing with her arm almost in front of her, "which gave me absolutely nothing as you can see." She pulled back more, until her hand reached her front shoulder. "I've got a lil more range now, but I ain't killin much more than a rabbit at ten feet with this. I need to be able to draw almost all the way back to my other shoulder."

"Hold there." Denise ran her hands across Cat's ribcage and shoulder, feeling the muscles. "You've got a couple knots, here and here," Denise pointed to the two places most of Cat's pain had been coming from. "You may have strained something and not realized it. Since you're now officially clear, see if you can have Daryl work them out for you. That should help ease the pain." Denise gave her a wink.

"So how're things with Tara?" Cat asked as she pulled her shirt back on.

"We're doing well, she talks in her sleep," Denise said with a laugh.

Cat and Denise spent the morning going over setting bones. They had concentrated on learning the most common traumas, since treating things like cancer wasn't going to be happening. 

Cat kept herself occupied, making the day fly by until she could get Daryl alone. Her mood soured when he came through the door that evening. He was pissed. She pulled him to the back porch and got him to calm down enough to talk.

"Tobin got himself trapped by walkers at the SaveMart. He's safe, but we gotta go rescue him. Just wanted to let ya know."

Cat threw her arms around him. He hugged her back, and she held him until he grew calm, relaxing in her embrace. She pulled back and looked at him. "It's ok. Go save Tobin. I'll still be here when ya get back." She gave him a kiss. "Be careful. Is TJ goin?" He nodded in response. "Watch each other's backs. Come back to me."

He kissed her again, breaking away reluctantly, and was gone. _'Damn it, Tobin,'_ she thought to herself. The SaveMart was over an hour away, and who knew how long it would take them to rescue him.

He still hadn't returned when she went to bed, so she left a note that said 'Wake Me' and fell asleep.

It was the early morning, the sky still dark and the birds still silent when she felt someone pulling her toes. She opened her eyes to see him standing there, covered in blood and filth. He looked exhausted.

"Hey, Dixie. Everyone make it back ok?"

"Barely," came his gravelly reply. 

"C'mon, let's get ya cleaned up." She had put one of his shirts on when she climbed into bed, so she didn't bother getting dressed. She ushered him into the bathroom, got the water started and stripped him down. He stood there as she unbuttoned his shirt, wavering slighty, her fingers on his body telling him he was home. He groaned in pain as she pulled his pants down past his thighs. There was a four inch gash on the outside of his right thigh, still seeping blood.

"That's gonna need stitches," she remarked, checking the wound. She finished undressing him and pushed him into the shower. She gathered up his clothes and added them to the gross pile. She considered jumping in with him but his leg needed tending first, so she prepped her supplies while he finished. 

He came back in with his towel around his waist, water dripping from his hair. "'C'mon, lay down, lemme get a look." He pulled the towel off and dried his hair, then flopped down on the bed, laying still as she stitched him up. He watched her as she worked, her hands moving sure and quick as she pulled his flesh back together. But even the gentle pressure of her hands on his bare thigh was enough to make him grow hard. She pretended not to notice, finishing her work as if nothing was happening between his legs.

She finished and gathered up her stuff, but as she got up she reached down and squeezed his cock. He gasped with pleasure at the unexpected touch, watching her walk around the bed to put her kit away. She crawled in, still wearing his shirt, and straddled him. Her wet pussy pressed against him as she moved her hips. She slowly undid the buttons on the shirt, letting it slip to the floor. He slid his hands up across her tattoo, finding her stitches gone. He groaned as she slid him inside her, grabbing her hips as she started to move. 

She took her time, grinding slowly, the feel of his cock inside her making her smile with joy as she braced herself against his chest. He watched her move, drinking her in as his hands held her hips, her raven tattoo appearing to fly as her body undulated against him. The wet warmth of her pussy gliding over his cock was like heaven. He sat up, arms going around her as his mouth kissed her neck. She ran her fingers through his hair, gasping as his lips teased her, her skin igniting under his touch. Her desire intensified, becoming urgent, driving her to go faster.

He growled in response, rolling her onto her back, pressing his weight onto her as he slammed into her. She let out a small cry as he buried himself in her. He raised up a bit and slipped his hand down, finding her clit, the rough pad of his finger on her swollen nub eliciting another cry. He kissed her, quieting her as he brought her closer to the edge, keeping her there until she was begging for release.

"Please, Dixie," she whimpered, making him grin. He sat up, wanting to see her as he moved his hand and hips faster. She brought her knees up, and he rammed into her hard and fast. She arched her back as the orgasms swept over her, her pussy tightening on his cock, urging him on. He didn't let up, finger on her clit as she writhed until he couldn't take any more, driving deep inside her as he filled her with his cum.

Daryl fell to the bed next to her, panting with exertion. She rolled over and snuggled into him. "Please tell me Doc cleared ya," he rumbled as he looked down at her.

"She did," Cat said breathlessly. "Although she has given further instructions for you."

"Oh, really?"

"Apparently I need a back massage," she giggled, tracing her fingers over the ink on his chest.

"Mmm, I think that's doable." His voice low in her ear sent shivers down her spine. He rolled towards her, pulling her against him, legs intertwined. "So ya let me leave, knowin what we coulda been doin instead?"

"I did, cause that was more important. And I certainly wasn't gonna say somethin and rile ya up any more. That's why I left a note."

She moved her fingers down his side, tracing patterns in his skin. She moved over his hip and down his thigh, drawing a small moan from him. He kissed her, long and deep, his hands moving over her back. 

The second time was slower, as they explored each other's bodies with hands and lips. The sun was just starting to brighten the sky as they fell asleep, satisfied and content. 

Banging on the front door woke her with a start, but Daryl didn't stir. He was normally a light sleeper but he had been exhausted. She threw on clothes and ran to answer the door before it woke him.

Rick was standing there, hand resting on his gun. "Where's Daryl?"

"He's asleep. And he's gonna stay that way," she added, pushing him out of the doorway and onto the porch, closing the door behind her. "He didn't get in til late last night after saving Tobin."

"Wait, what do you mean saving Tobin?"

"Tobin apparently got trapped at the SaveMart last night. So Daryl went to go rescue him. I know TJ went too, prob'ly a couple others. Why?"

Rick's face contorted in frustration, walking a couple paces away, then turning back. "Tobin wasn't even supposed to go until this morning. I told him it was too risky."

"Well apparently Tobin disagreed." Just then the front door opened behind her and Daryl appeared, wearing only a pair of pants that hung low on his hips, his shirt hanging unbuttoned from his shoulders.

"What's up?" he asked, leaning on the doorframe and folding his arms in front of him. His face was haggard from lack of sleep.

"What the hell was Tobin thinking? And why would you let him leave?" Rick said, his voice low and angry.

"I ain't his dad, not like he came to me askin permission. He wanted to go be stupid, and I didn'tknow til he was already gone." Daryl was tired, making him snap at Rick a lot more harshly than he had meant to. 

Rick realized he was right and softened his stance. "Everyone make it back?"

"Yeah. Got a lil squirrelly but we did. Tobin ain't goin out no more. Not til he learns better. I ain't that stupid."

Rick paused, then let it go with a nod. "Alright. But from now on all excursions go through either you or me first, and no one goes alone." 

Daryl gave a nod. "A'ight."

"I came over to see about plotting out staggered scouting parties when you got back. We need to get supplies coming in again."

"A'ight. Lemme get dressed," Daryl replied, straightening up. Cat glared at Rick, arms crossed in front of her.

Catching a glimpse of Cat's face made Rick stop him. "Actually, I'm meeting with Maggie on the expansion right now. We'll be busy until this afternoon. Come see me then."

"A'ight." Daryl held the door for Cat as Rick departed down the stairs. "I saw that."

"What?"

"That look out there," he told her as he closed the door.

"Cause I know ya ain't gonna tell Rick no when he asks for help. Even if ya should. That's just who ya are." She wrapped her arms around his waist. "It's one of the reasons I love ya. But ya need to take care of yourself, too."

"That's what I got you for," he said, putting his arms around her. 

"Oh, is that all I'm here for?" she teased, slipping her hands down the back of his pants. She realized that he must have hurried down the stairs because he was commando. She gave his ass a quick squeeze.

He growled in response, pulling her arms up around his neck, then scooping her up, wrapping her legs around him, and taking her back to bed.


End file.
